


KoMM-3288

by WyattM



Series: Interpol 1000kr [1]
Category: Pocket Monsters | Pokemon (Main Video Game Series), Pocket Monsters: Sun & Moon | Pokemon Sun & Moon Versions
Genre: "confusion", Illnesses, International Police Adventures, M/M, Missions Gone Wrong, No actual romantic content, One-Sided Attraction, mild violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-04-28
Updated: 2017-06-18
Packaged: 2018-10-24 19:20:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 22,764
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10748142
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WyattM/pseuds/WyattM
Summary: Before they were the International Police's Master of Disguise and the Kahuna of Ula'ula, 100kr and 000 were novice agents of the International Police that somehow managed to screw up a simple recon job.  All they had to do was take a walk in the woods.  100kr isn't overwhelmingly sure how he screwed up this badly, and he's certainly not sure how he's going to fix it.  000 makes the plans, not him!Prequel to KsLuC-0957. Mt. Moon doesn't count for anything.On hiatus for various reasons, mostly related to extended business travel and poor forethought about saving things to a flash drive before I left.





	1. Global Internal Documents: Hazard, Risk, and Mitigation Analysis

**Author's Note:**

> All work should start with a hazard risk analysis, just for good practice.

**Revision E- DRAFT  
**

Overview of hazards and risks, see detailed report for further information

 **Branch:** Global

 **Category:** Ultranormal

 **Subcategory** : Recovery

 **Objective:** Recover recently-discovered fossils from Mt. Moon

**Dispatched Personnel:**

ZZ001 (team lead)

62Wc

Hvc6

100kr

000

 **Initial Risk Level:** High

 

**List of Hazards and Mitigations:**

**1\. Team Rocket activity in area**

a. All agents provided dossiers on admins and grunts known to operate out of the Mt. Moon/Route 3/Route 4 area. _(…where did these come from exactly?! Please tell me you did NOT print the entire Kanto dossier five times over!  We do NOT have that kind of paper budget!!)_

b. All agents prepared to engage Team Rocket if necessary.

c. Agents Hvc6, 100kr, and 62Wc designated as scouts and will survey general area accordingly during mission, remaining in constant contact with the rest of the team.

**2\. Area is main thoroughfare for travelers (particularly pokemon trainers)**

a. Agents have been presented with suitable cover identities:

i. Agents Hvc6 and 62Wc will assume the identity of Hikers

ii. Agent ZZ001 will assume the identity of a Fossil Collector

iii. Agents 100kr and 000 will assume the identity of Indigo League Challengers _(EH… they’re a little old for that, make sure 100kr has a plan on this one)_

**3\. Several civilians attempting fossil recovery**

~~a. Shoot if necessary~~ _(MC822, do I REALLY NEED to fucking tell you to stop putting this in?! We have to write MOCs for that now!!)_

_a. All efforts to not involve civilians will be made_

_b. 15000 in funds acquired for purchase of fossils from civilians_

_c. MoC for Termination of uncooperative civilians will be filed as a last resort_

**4\. Numerous wild pokemon in area**

a. All agents have suitable pokemon for defense in a pokemon-related situation:

i. ZZ001: Poliwrath

ii. 62Wc: Luxio

iii. Hvc6: Ariados

iv. 100kr: Croagunk

v. 000: Persian

_b. Agents will not incite wild pokemon nor utilize them for mission related purposes. (We have to list this now, official action item from the Lavender Town incident)_

**5\. Potential for rockslides in area**

a. Agents will remain alert to potential of rockslides

b. All agents current on natural disaster training _(Check 000 and Hvc6, I’m actually not sure if we sent them to that one)_

**6\. Agent 62Wc has known drinking problem**

a. Agent 62Wc’s bags will be inspected prior to departure.

b. Agent 62Wc will remain with Agent ZZ001, Agent Hvc6, or Agent 100kr at all times.  Agent 62Wc will not be left alone or with Agent 000.

**7\. Agent 100kr has known speech impediment**

a. Agent 100kr will presume identity of a foreign trainer if approaching civilians is requisite.   _Agent 100kr will not pretend he is from Alola this time and will instead chose a region he has actually lived in, the choice at his discretion. (Added because sometimes you have to fucking tell this dumbass these things)_

~~**8\. Agent 000 prematurely removed from administrative suspension** ~~

~~a. Agent 000 will be accompanied by team lead at all times~~ _(Leave this out, it raises more questions than it answers.  Like the question of how I let 100kr talk me into this in the first place)_

**Resulting Risk Level:** Low

 

 **Author:** MC822

 **L1 Approval:** 81chy

 

_Hurry up and finalize this shit before ZZ001 ignores the procedure entirely._


	2. KoMM-3288:1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 0730

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Content warning: Bad and/or inappropriate language

"Change of plans, Motormouth.  Your boy is going with you," senior agent ZZ001 (nicknamed Spot, derived from the wine stain birthmark wrapping around the left side of the middle aged man's jaw) decides in the lobby of the hotel, his gray mustache twitching and his eyes affixed to his paperwork as he speaks.  He doesn't so much as glance at the other agent as he announces the protocol change.

Novice agent 100kr (nicknamed Motormouth, for cruel reasons he wishes to not discuss) jolts, his coffee cup threatening to fumble from his grip.  The Chief agreed to remove agent 000 (nicknamed Zeroes, derived from his codename... though he insists on not being referred to as such) from his suspension on the explicit condition he stayed under the watchful eyes of the team lead.  100kr spent forty-five minutes in her office persuading her on the point (with help from ZZ001) yesterday, and the consensus was that 000 would not leave a twenty foot radius of ZZ001 the entire time.  Removing an agent from suspension is _technically_ not against the International Police guidelines (though 100kr did reread Section 10 again for certainty), the Chief Director of the department has the authority to do so with defined proper mitigations in a Management of Change document.  100kr wrote a Management of Change document for her.

Changing the mitigations as expressed in the Management of Change document, however, is against Section 10, Subsection 7, points 3 through 5.  Moreover, changing the established procedure itself is against Section 4, Subsection 3, point 1.  The senior agent's laissez-faire attitude towards the established mission procedure and the International Police Policy Guide makes the novice agent overlook his quip about his relationship to 000.  000 does not belong to 100kr, he would otherwise gently remind the senior agent.  Granted, 100kr knows the term is nothing but a figure of speech, if not a less than pleasing one, and has been told to keep his musings on language to himself.

"But is this decision not against the official mission protocol, sir?" 100kr questions, picking at the cuticle of his thumb to avoid picking at his styrofoam coffee cup.  The last time he did that, he punctured the side of the cup and earned a second degree burn on his thigh.  While he's been waiting in the lobby for the rest of the agents so long his coffee has gone cold, he prefers to avoid the mess. Cuticles may hurt, but they will not leave dark stains all over his trousers.

The aging man's mustache twitches again and he neglects to look up at his subordinate.  "Procedure changed, just came in on the fax.  You and Zeroes take recon on the west hiking trail."

"Understand sir," 100kr squeaks, taking a swig of cold black coffee and keeping his knowledge of Section 10, Subsection 7 to himself.

ZZ001 _terrifies_ the young agent and that's more than enough reason not to correct him.  The man has more experience in the International Police than 100kr has years alive.  He fought in the war.  He's seen and done everything worthwhile in the world, and he has no reason to so much as acknowledge 100kr's presence.  ZZ001 speaking directly to 100kr incurs a mild panic.  Much to 100kr's misfortune, the senior agent tends to do this often- typically in bathrooms or locker rooms and typically on the subject of 000's well being.  

Unlike his coworker, 000 has no issue telling a senior agent to mind his own business, even when said senior agent is concerned for him.  It's then left to 100kr to reassure him that 000 is in fact, most likely definitely fine, and in no way gave Hvc6 that broken nose in a bar fight last weekend, and he very much needs to leave right now and arrive at an important but otherwise unspecified engagement _right now_ thank you have a lovely day.  And then leave that bathroom posthaste for a different bathroom, preferably the deserted one in the basement that 000 uses for naps.

"Stop calling me 'sir', for the love of Arceus," ZZ001 grumbles, glancing up, "Speak of the devil and he shall appear."

Agent 000 stands behind the uncomfortably paisley couch 100kr sits on.  100kr jumps and spills his coffee all over it and himself, unaware that his coworker had been lurking behind him.  Agent 000 emits very little noise sometimes.  His sneaking abilities are a combination of both wondrous, terrifying, and a tad creepy.

"And so much for clean trousers..." 100kr mumbles to himself, thinking aloud.  His thoughts are ignored by his two teammates.

"What's this about me moving to recon?" 000 questions with a cocked eyebrow.  

100kr wants to fade to invisible at his coworker's tone.  The agent, despite having no seniority, holds no one else in the Global division in any kind of respect.  Particularly, he refuses to hold ZZ001 in respect despite ZZ001 being one of the few agents that is willing off his own respect.  The other two senior agents hold 000 in rather strong contempt.

"You'd best sound a little more grateful," the team lead retorts, his eyes narrowing, "You're supposed to be on suspension without pay."

"I had no problem being suspended, could have left me home," 000 grumbles, causing 100kr to sink farther into the couch despite the cold coffee soaking into his clothing.  He stayed up an entire night conjuring a convincing argument to the Chief.  While he would never admit his actions to 000 in a million years, hearing his coworker complain about the arrangement is a little hurtful.

He did have a problem, 100kr reminds himself, and he did _not_ want to be left out of a mission.  000, in fact, sounded rather grateful this morning on the phone with the Chief, even if 000's version of grateful includes a gratuitous number of curses and sarcasm.  Despite having been on his three-week suspension for less than five days, 000 couldn't cope with not working.   Admittedly, 100kr didn’t quite understand the exact details of _why_ 000 preferred not being suspended.  He assumed the situation would be opposite, as 000 dislikes working, but the suspension distressed 000 to a degree 100kr didn't predict before meeting his partner at the bar last weekend.

Granted, his partner was drunk whilst explaining the situation.  000 tends to forget his accent training when he drinks, and while 100kr knows several languages and can tolerate strong dialects, Alolan accents throw him for a bit of a loop.  Moreover, 000 never consumes a small volume of alcohol when he’s upset, so most of his words slurred.  His reasoning had something to do with paying off a PokeMart he didn’t burn down four years ago and shoudn't have to pay off, but he had been quite insistent on making his way back on the payroll early.

100kr's not certain how 000 would burn down a PokeMart anyway.  As far as 100kr is aware, his coworker has never trained with fire types.

000 cocks an eyebrow, "Why am I on recon?"

"Toilet's drunk," ZZ001 explains curtly, handing 100kr a stack of napkins to wipe the mess off himself, "Motormouth is going to have too much trouble with him."

"So I'm getting fucked because Toilet can't stay away from a bar."  000 had been assigned to recover their target with ZZ001- a prestigious position, despite being assigned because the protocol stated that he needed to be supervised at all times.

"You're getting fucked because I'm telling you you're getting fucked," he stares down 000 as he speaks, "Now would you rather get fucked with Motormouth or H-Vac?"

Both novice agents blush at the word selection.

"100kr," 000 grumbles, walking off either for coffee or a cigarette.

100kr flushes red over the phrasing.  _It is only a figure of speech_ , he reminds himself, _not an indication of the situation ZZ001 expects 000 to find himself in on the mission_.  Intimate relations would be out of the question.  This is just another figure of speech 100kr has yet to grow fully accustomed to.  

It’s not that 100kr hasn’t considered that situation with 000.  He has numerous times, mostly when sleep fails him, or a particularly stressful mission wraps up, or realistically whenever the agent can't procure enough other work to preoccupy his mind.  Intimate relations with 000 would be out of the question for _several_ reasons actually, the largest of which being that 000 does not, under any circumstances, permit extended physical contact of any nature.  The agent once jumped into oncoming traffic at a crosswalk to avoid a pat on the back, and then disappeared for three days following.  Lest he lose his only friend, 100kr vowed to avoid all contact with the man thenceforth and to prevent the thought from popping in his head.  000 is a friend and coworker, and the situation will never, ever become anything otherwise.

100kr just has to remind himself this until he finally believes it.  He’s about halfway there, he imagines.  Perhaps in a year or two he will no longer think about 000 as more than a teammate and a dinner companion.  Also, intimate relations with 000 would be against the International Police's policies (Section 7, Subsection 19... the page dog-eared enough times that the paper had started to fall apart in 100kr's copy of the handbook), and 100kr reminds himself of that fact if he needs too.  "Getting fucked" is a figure of speech and nothing more, much like "your boy" and any of the other vernacular the Global agents throw around.

"Guess I'll give you the overview," ZZ001 grumbles, snapping 100kr out of his linguistic analysis, "Take the west trail, walk around the mountain, chase off any Team Rocket you come across.  Should take you about twelve hours, given Zeroes, you'll probably finish up in ten."

"Understand, sir."

" _Again_ with the sir," the senior agent grumbles, "H-Vac, sit your ass down, I'm doing a briefing."

Hvc6 (nicknamed H-Vac, as derived from his codename much like 000) wanders in the lobby, clutching a cup of coffee for dear life and not expecting to run into the rest of his teammates.  His usually curly red hair is slicked down from the shower and he has yet to change out of his pajamas.  The other agents took ZZ001's order of 0600 briefing time as more of a suggestion rather than an order.

"Where's Toilet?" the agent grumbles, staring into his coffee cup as if it will magically cool to a drinkable temperature at the gesture.  "I haven't seen him all night."

"Toilet's puking his idiot guts out in my bathroom," ZZ001 explains in irritation, looking over the back of his couch as their teammate tries to sneak past to the continental breakfast.

Hvc6 rolls his eyes.  "Well, then can I get a waffle or something before we do this?"

"I swear to Arceus, is there _one_ person on this team that isn't entirely useless?" the older agent slams his stack of briefing paperwork down, frustrated at his assigned team, "It's seven-fifteen!"

"KR showed up on time," 000's voice argues from directly behind 100kr.  

The already flustered agent drops his (now empty) coffee cup.  Upon twisting in his seat, 100kr sees that his partner holds two cups of coffee, one left black for his coworker and one loaded with cheap creamer packets and sugar for himself.  

"If I give this to you, are you gonna drop it again?" 000 asks, glancing down at his coworker.

"Erm, perhaps leave it to sit on the coffee table for a few minutes," 100kr admits as he places the empty cup on the faux-wood table in front of him.

"Give him a sippy cup," ZZ001 grumbles as he pinches the bridge of his nose underneath his glasses, before turning back to Hvc6, "And no. Sit your ass down, we're having this briefing without Toilet."

A public hotel lobby, however devoid of activity, is an inappropriate location for a mission briefing per the International Police's standards (though 100kr cannot recall the Section in light of the coffee).  This mission, in particular, holds a clearance level that his and 000's paperwork includes nothing more than a basic high-level procedure.  The two had been barred from any of the pre-mission meetings (not that 000 would have attended).  While many of the International Police's rules on clearances and classified information wind up ignored by Global Branch, the secrecy of this mission _seemed_ imperative whenever 100kr offered to help with the preparation (which was met with "No thanks", "No", and "Motormouth get the hell out of my cubicle").

100kr assumed the briefing would be held in the team lead's hotel room which, much to both their confusions an hour ago, proved to be incorrect when a rather disgruntled ZZ001 answered the door covered in what turned out to be 62Wc's vomit.  100kr was sent to the lobby, where he had waited on the couch with his coffee ever since.  

 _ZZ001 has more years of experience than you have alive_ , he reminds himself.

000 moseys around the couch and hands 100kr more napkins and the styrofoam cup.  Hvc6 plops down on the arm of ZZ001's couch.  As he shuffles his paperwork, the older agent rolls his eyes at either the casual disregard for proper furniture usage or 000 "babying" his coworker again.  100kr can't determine which.

"As I was telling Motormouth," the team lead begins again, "Y'all three are on recon.  Zeroes and Motormouth take the west hiking trail, H-Vac takes east.  It's about twelve hours of good, alert hike so at least _try_ not to fucking finish in four.  First one back sets up the radio and gets in communication with us, then y'all three divvy out your own comm shifts until Toilet and I are done.  I don't particularly give a damn what else you do as long as some asshole is on the radio and nobody fucking injures themselves."

Which means 100kr will inevitably take all the communication shifts while 000 hangs around the motel room drunk and Hvc6 makes himself scarce.  He sighs into his coffee, realizing the role he will assume for the rest of the group.  At least 000 tries to keep pleasant (but intoxicated) company when during comm shifts.  Hvc6 is rather poor company, the man is at least a decade older than 100kr and only interested in sports.  Within a month of his tenure with Global, 100kr had tired of watching nothing but the sports network in hotel rooms and he's rather thankful 000 cares little for that genre of entertainment.  If he runs comms with drunk 000, they can watch movies (even if 000 will make comments throughout the course of the entire film).

"Toilet and I will probably leave here in... shit, probably not for six more hours in his state.  I'll get his ass out of here as quick as I can," he shrugs, "And don't fucking call for an extraction, I don't want to have to file a fucking report.  Any questions?"

"Yeah, is Motormouth still supposed to be a Indigo League challenger?" Hvc6 comments, swallowing a mouthful of coffee, "'Cause I don't know any trainers that wear a three piece suits."

100kr stares at his coffee cup at the suggestion.  000 already sighed profusely at his choice of attire last night.  When pressed, the only helpful elaboration his coworker could give on the matter of 'what a trainer would wear' was 'three day old whatever was last bought at a thrift store instead of dinner.'  Despite speaking fondly of his years as a pokemon trainer, 000 has a knack for making the entire experience sound _unpleasant_.  100kr might not care for his childhood, but at least it included regular meals and clean clothing.

"I'll come up something for him, not the weirdest shit I ever seen," 000 says, stretching.

Hvc6 cocks an eyebrow, "I was a trainer too. Never saw a motherfucker running around in a suit."

"Didn't your league challenge end like three gyms in?" the younger agent retorts, unwilling to have his authority on the matter challenged.  While it turned out _most_ of the Global IP had at some point been pokemon trainers in their youth (a skill which 100kr, embarrassingly, never practiced), 000 is the only agent in the department with any notable accolades for his abilities. "Real pertinent knowledge with that kind of experience. I was a captain, I think I've spent more time around the little shits than you."

"The fuck is a captain?"

“Like a gym leader, but young and shitty,” ZZ001 answers before 000 gets a chance.  He’s old enough to have been around the world a few times with the IP and has seen regions the IP doesn't even operate in.  "It doesn't matter, Zeroes and Motormouth are too old for that story anyway.  Come up with something on the fly, I don't give a shit.  Okay, what else..."

The senior agent fumbles through his procedural paperwork, trying to locate other pertinent points to read off to the three field agents.  "Turn in an Arceus damned report when you get the the other motel, that goes without saying.  Lessee, hazards... Look out for Team Rocket, be aware of rockslides, don't let Toilet get drunk... eh, that one's already out. Motormouth, don't try to talk to anybody.  No recruiting wild pokemon for assistance, _Agent 000._ "

000 scowls at the mention, "Is that really in there?"

"New action item after Lavender Town.  I'm required to remind you," ZZ001 informs him, banging the papers back into a messy stack on the faux-wood coffee table, "Don't do that."

Hvc6 snorts in delighted schadenfreude, "Is _that_ why you were on suspension this week?  The fuck did you do?"

"He coerced a haunter into knocking down half a floor of grave markers," ZZ001 sighs, shaking his head.

"It just started following me!" 000 protests, "What was I supposed to do about it? Shoo the damn thing?"

"If I recall correctly, you mentioned you instructed it to use shadow ball," 100kr clarifies, though he leaves out the fact that his coworker had told him, with a rather inappropriate amount of pride, that the haunter had toppled over an entire floor's worth of memorials.

000 punches the other novice in the thigh, causing him to fumble with his grip on the coffee cup again. "Who's side are you on?"

"It's embarrassing that you even got suspended for that," ZZ001 complains, "Back in the day, we leveled a Pallet Town building and never heard a word on it after.  Place has gone to hell in a handbasket, handing out action items for this sort of shit.  Just don't do it again, you aren't going to get any points for being clever around here."

"So what time do we leave?" Hvc6 asks, changing the subject as he eyes the hotel's continental breakfast in the next room.

"If I so much as see any of you within a five mile radius in twenty minutes, we're going to have words," ZZ001 threatens as he stands up from the hideous lobby couch, most likely with the intention of checking on their fifth teammate's wellbeing, "Take your fucking waffle to-go."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm back. I really didn't mean for this to take this long. I decided to rewrite what I had because I really hated it (Looker is fucking hard to write, I won't be doing this again...), and then my life spiraled totally off course (ask me about all the states I've lived in since KsLuC). It hasn't actually leveled out but that's not gonna improve this year and I really need to write to destress.
> 
> Updates will be every Friday/Saturday, though I may have to take break weeks for various reasons.
> 
> Hopefully y'all get a kick out of it.
> 
> Also there's no romance in this, so prepare for an ending most anticlimactic.


	3. KoMM-3288:2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 1045

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Content Warning: Gun violence, blood, pokemon attacks, vomit

"Okay, that is perhaps a fair decision, but now instead consider the possibility that you could select only one attack to fight with," 100kr muses as the two agents trod along the well-demarcated hiking trail.  Despite being a public-use trail, none of the general public is bold enough to meander through this early in spring.  The snow covers the ground in a few patches in the distance, though melting in the late morning sun.  An hour or so ago, they had come across the sporadic jogger, but since 0930, 100kr and 000 have walked in solitude.  

"Then _just_ dark pulse," 000 replies from within his bundle of cold-weather clothing.  He's wearing his parka, a hat, a scarf, and gloves, and likely another jacket and a second pair of sweatpants.  Thankfully, after the last winter mission in Sinnoh he determined that mid-40s spring weather is perhaps a little warm for the ridiculous ski goggles 100kr loaned him (without real intention of continued ownership).  "That way I can still use black hole eclipse."

"That is cheating!  Black hole eclipse makes for two attacks!  And in the main regions it is strictly illegal!" 100kr argues, "No special attacks."

"This is an imaginary world where we are both pokemon who only know one attack," 000 grumbles, "And I'd still be holding my crystal, so I can still use black hole eclipse."

"It is cheating," 100kr insists with a scowl.

"Then it's still just dark pulse, because it's strong enough on its own."

"But what if you were to cross paths with a bug type hostile?"

"You'd be fighting for me.  You chose hyper beam so you're fucked against ghosts, so it's mutual and all," he determines, stopping to light another cigarette, "There's no one move that'll take care of everything."

"Ah, but this is why I have Croagunk." 100kr holds in the urge to fake cough, unwilling to watch his partner poison himself yet again.  Many aspects of the smoking habit perturb him, from the smoke smell that pervades everything on 000 to the potential death to the consistent lack of money.  For the first few months of their friendship, 100kr disliked the smell alone, though now that he's used to the smell and they both received eventual raises, he has to live with the slow death of his coworker.  

"You didn't say we still had Croagunk and Persian, that changes things." 000 sees him reel for a cough and shoots the other agent a glare.  Few things grate on his nerves like the fake coughing.  In fact, the only thing that upsets 000 more than fake coughs is touching.  "We got a fork coming up according to the map.  Want to check out the lake?" he asks, changing the subject from another one of 100kr's hypothetical scenarios and as far as possible from his smoking habit.

100kr puts his hand to his chin, "It would probably be the most responsible course of action.  Should we perhaps wait for Persian to return to us?"

000 had released his pokemon early into the hike and she had scrambled off to hunt.  His lack of heedfulness when it came to his companion perpetually strikes a nerve with 100kr, despite three years of knowing the man and growing used to most of his other habits.  Croagunk never leaves 100kr's sight.  Persian disappears on her own business without a hint of dissent from 000.

Croagunk stumbled along with the agents for the first hour or so, before deciding he wanted to continue with his winter hibernation and demanded return to his pokeball.  100kr acquiesced, despite the fact that the pokemon should have finished his winter hibernation several weeks ago.  They had spent the first month of the period in the Sevii Islands, and his internal schedule had yet to recuperate.  Despite numerous comments from 000 about 'spoiling the thing' and 'he's just going to get messed up for this winter', 100kr couldn't bring himself to see his companion miserable.

"Not like we have anything better to do, there isn't any Tapu-damned Team Rocket around here," 000 shrugs, folding the map back up, "She'll catch up.  Always does."

"Erm, as we are currently walking in public, do you think you could curse in a more appropriate manner?" 100kr asks his coworker at his choice of deity to swear on.  While there's no point in correcting his speech when the two are alone, the trail is _public._ 000  _could_ make a greater effort to conceal his identity, as he is _definitely_ the only Alolan in the International Police and the only person in all of Kanto that venerates the gods 'Tapu' and 'Bulu'.  

At least, 100kr thinks they are gods.  The agent couldn't find substantial information on the Alolan religion (religions?) at the public libraries, despite checking every branch in Saffron City, two in Goldenrod, and three in Celadon.  Part of him hoped that perhaps they could celebrate a holiday 000 felt familiar with (most of the winter holiday traditions left him on edge, in particular, 100kr's retelling of the gingerbread man story), and part of him hoped it would shed some light on his coworker's behavior (as 000 behaved contrary to every school textbook description of Alolan culture).  The man seemed at least vaguely more religious than 100kr, so perhaps the greater theology held some importance with him.  

Granted, Tapu and Bulu clearly don't ask for much in terms of devotion, as his coworker takes no holy days, swears by both often, and participates in a good deal of what could be considered 'sinful behavior' in a conventional religious context.  Three years of friendship 000 offered no additional insight on the topic.  He skirted any questions on the matter after discovering he was the only member of training class that didn't believe in Arceus.

"Arceus-damned Team Rocket that we're supposed to be hunting down and stopping as 000 and 100kr, proud members of the Global International Police," 000 retorts sarcastically, flashing a shit eating grin as his coworker's wince, "KR, there's nobody around for miles, who gives a shit?"

"We are supposed to be maintaining a cover!" 100kr argues, scowling with his arms crossed, "Your sarcasm is not appreciated."

"It's a bullshit cover we can't use anyway, we're too old to be league challengers," the other agent sighs, continuing down the path as he shakes his head, "And it's not like Team Rocket wouldn't kill us regardless."

100kr hurries to catch up.  Despite being lazy and having such short legs, his coworker moves with surprising swiftness.  "There could be additional hostiles in the area with the intent to deceive or accost the International Police."

"Like who?  Team Rocket stamps out all of them for us."

He isn't wrong.  Twice the agents have been sent on mission to obtain information on other organized crime groups, just to find a wake of dead bodies and everything of value stolen.  Team Rocket does not appreciate competition.

"Still," 100kr mutters in defeat, "It is against policies."

It's a pointless argument, his partner disregards the International Police Policies on the regular.  100kr isn't supposed to know anything about him (or any of the other agents), yet he knows about 000's homeland, half his childhood, and could make a reasonable guess at his real name- it's one of the rotating three or four he chooses as a civilian pseudonym, though obviously not 'Lord Alphonse Giganteus McManly' (which, much to 100kr's embarrassment, he's insisted on rather often as of late).

Granted, proper field agents should not spend as much off-work time together as 100kr and 000 do.  However 100kr isn't prepared to spend Friday nights engaged in something other than pizza and B-grade action movies with the other agent.  Obnoxious commentary aside, 000 is good company and perhaps the best (...and only) friend 100kr ever had.  All the more reason 100kr needs to remember the the International Police's policies.  If a pat on the back led to three days disappeared, intimate relations could likely lead to 000 disappearing forever- no more pizza Fridays.

"Halfway there," 100kr thinks aloud, before covering his mouth in horror.   _That was the only thought to slip out, please have been the only thought._

"More like three-quarters," 000 grumbles as he stops to stomp on his cigarette butt and toss it in his pocket.  He threw exactly one cigarette butt into the bushes on 100kr's watch, three years ago at the beginning of training school.  The ensuing argument insured the agent never so much as thought about the act again. "Twelve hours was more than generous for this assignment."

The other agent breathes a sigh of relief that the rest of his thoughts stayed within the safe confines of his brain.  

That being noted, they will still complete their task long before ZZ001 instructed them too. They ignored a few paths they could have detoured on, those could still be scoured.   "We are supposed to remain vigilant and actively search for hostiles.  Perhaps in order to do our job in closer allotment to the time frame we could double back down the trail and perform a more thoro-"

"No," 000 responds, continuing on without so much as glancing at the other agent.

100kr scowls and jogs to catch up with him, "Well then, from henceforth we will just have to be more meticulous about our hike."

"H-Vac's probably already at the motel," he points out, stuffing his hands in his pockets, "Knowing him, he bummed a ride so he could take a nap before running coms."

How the other agents chose to carry themselves is of no interest to 100kr.  Just because other field agents disregard International Police Policies does not mean 100kr will act in their stead.  Besides, Hvc6 never takes his communications shifts anyway.  Knowing the older agent, he will drink at the nearest bar, pick up a woman who is not his girlfriend, and will be shuffling out a side entrance with her by the time 000 and 100kr show up.  This has happened twice now.

"We should be making every effort to follow the established procedure."  The rule is outlined specifically in the International Police Policies, Section 1, Subsection 4, and discussed again in Section 4, Subsection 1.

"Well, I'm going to the lake.  We can be 'making every effort' after lunch," 000 replies in irritation, trodding down the path leading to the lake.

The lake is less of a lake and more of a holding pond, though the constant runoff from the melting Mt. Moon snows have ensured a relative lack of the bacterial overgrowth and sludge no doubt present in summer.  000 plops down on the first patch of dry ground and lays in the grass, using his backpack as a pillow.  100kr shakes his head as he lays his overcoat out for a proper picnic arrangement. He should have brought a blanket of some sort with him in retrospect.  Perhaps a picnic basket, since disguising themselves as picnickers would serve as a more suitable facade than league challengers and he could hide spare ammunition in the basket.  100kr had to leave a dozen rounds at the office because 000 refused to carry the additional weight in his backpack (in all fairness to 000, he already carries 100kr's pajamas, change of clothing, and toiletry bag).

A picnic here would make a rather pleasant setting for a date- the flowers are half-way blooming, the pond hasn't turned stagnant yet, and with Mt. Moon looming in the background, the entire scene feels rather picturesque.

This lake would be for a date with someone _other_ than his coworker, for correction.  100kr will _not_ be going on a picnic date with 000, perhaps even if he did have intimate relations with the man.  000 already voiced his opinions on cute dates and why he would not be caught dead on one.  Any attempted cute date 100kr could plan would end in _utmost_ disaster.  

Cute dates also fall against International Police Policies, Section 7, Subsection 19, Points 8-11, with reference in Section 9, Subsection 3, Points 9, 17, and 24.  The subject is closed.  Their lunch is nothing more than a break from a work mission.

"Did you carry along any food to eat, or would you like to have the other half of my sandwich?" 100kr offers, pulling an egg salad sandwich from his coat pocket.  He should rouse Croagunk and give him some, but undoubtedly 000 will insist on breaking his late season hibernation sometime before their walk is over.  The pokemon may sleep for now.

"I've got cheesepuffs.  I think I'm gonna nap instead," the other agent responds, shutting his eyes and pulling his hat over his head, "We got up too early."

"Perhaps you should have slept for a longer period last night."

000 left his bed for frequent smoke breaks and trips to the bathroom the previous night, waking 100kr every time.  Despite being silent otherwise, 000 tends to move with more noise than usual when he wakes in the middle of the night.  Or 100kr has a heightened awareness for 000 not sleeping.

That would be against the International Police Policies (technically Section 7, Subsection 19, Points 12 and 13, but it shouldn't count as 'stalking' per say if they share a room).  000 must make more noise at night.

Around 0300, 100kr considered asking his coworker if he'd rather watch television, since neither could sleep anyway, but 000 started to snore as soon as 100kr mustered up the courage.

"Fucking couldn't.  I've been nocturnal since I got suspended," 000 complains between yawns, "Didn't expect to have to be normal for a few more weeks."

"Ah, this is why you have been returning my calls so late at night then," 100kr realizes aloud between bites of sandwich. He had called about meeting for dinner several times, only for the invitation to be accepted around nine or ten in the evening.... past any reasonable hour of 100kr to be out and about.  100kr had to give a disappointing retraction to his original offer every time.

000 snores in response.

100kr shakes his head and finishes his sandwich.  He'll let the man sleep for now.  They really are ahead of schedule and this really is a pointless task.  Team Rocket wouldn't be so silly as to waltz about in the open if they truly had intentions with whatever item ZZ001 intended to recover.  000 can doze for a few minutes.  Besides, he's a rather cute marshmallow when asleep.

100kr shoves the rest of his sandwich in his mouth and swallows in one painful gulp.  He does not find his coworker cute under any circumstances and he will take a reconnaissance walk to remove himself from the sleeping marshmallow.  The Policies do not outline how to handle attraction to a fellow agent beyond saying not to, but presumably they imply that 100kr needs to handle the problem himself.  A walk will clear his head.

\---

The forest around the holding pond, much like the trail, appears to be devoid of people.  Visitors do not venture out this early in spring.  000 and 100kr may well be the only humans for miles and miles, he notices as he stumbles over fallen logs and snaking roots.  The forest cover is too thick even for much Team Rocket presence, and Team Rocket tends to keep presence _anywhere_ (even  temporary sandbars, unstable cliffs will hundreds of feet of mountain beneath them, and once in the branches of a rather large tree).  If _he_ were Team Rocket, in any case, 100kr would risk the main path and avoid certain catastrophe with thorny vines, poison ivy, and piles of rocks that resemble a geodude too strongly.

Actually, if he were in Team Rocket, he would be focusing on whatever current objective resides in Mt. Moon.  100kr has no idea, he isn't cleared.  Shamefully, his paperwork for the clearance level bounced back because he didn't have enough leadership on missions to qualify.  The agent missed his leadership competency last year (driving him into a panic attack before his December yearly review) and expects to miss it this year as well.  He's a novice agent, he doesn't receive many opportunities to act as leadership on missions.

A rattata wanders towards him as the agent rounds an oak tree, appearing from a thicket and cornering the IP agent against said tree.  He braces his hand on the pokeball in his pocket, trying to make as little movement as possible and wishing Croagunk were not insisting on continued hibernation.  The rattata gives him a curious sniff before lazing off, deciding the man is less than a threat.  Even the wild pokemon cannot care at this time of year.

"At least this mission brought Zeroes off suspension," 100kr thinks verbally, wiping the anxious sweat off his forehead with his arm as he turns back to the lake.  The rattatta is a close enough call, he doesn't need a second today.  

Besides, his sense of direction is... lacking.  Best to turn around while the agent can still recall how he arrived.  The route included a fallen maple (which he walks into for the second time), a small pile of moss-covered rocks that resemble a geodude (which 100kr forgets about and almost rouses Croagunk over), a stream of runoff from the mountain (which he steps in the second time around, soaking his socks), and a patch of poison ivy (which 100kr congratulates himself on _not_ walking through on both the coming and the return trips).  While his sense of direction may be terrible, the agent can at least fumble by remembering the obstacles he did and did not conquer.

Two men are hovering over 000 when the thickets give way again to holding pond, both wearing the distinct red and white of Team Rocket grunts.  One stands but a few yards from 000, holding his backpack and prepared to make a break down the main path behind them.  The second stands directly over him, poised to kick the agent in the head.  Flipping into overdrive, 100kr pulls his .45 out of the holster in his waistband and fires a warning shot at them as he runs.  000 jumps to attention at the gunfire, though the grunt slugs him in the jaw.

"HALT!" 100kr yells, not firing again out of fear of hitting the red marshmallow and instead releasing groggy Croagunk. "Come now, time to fight."

Croagunk grumbles and rubs his eyes, unhappy to be woken again and not particularly amused with his trainer, who skids to a halt a dozen yards away from 000 and the two grunts to assess their situation.  The first grunt and 000 are too close to risk the shot- 100kr aims well but perhaps not _that_ well.  As 000 tackles the hostile to the ground and punches him in the nose, the second one starts to run towards the commotion, turning himself into a much preferable target even if moving.

The bullet whizzes over 000's head and lodges in the second grunt's shoulder, slowing but not halting his charge at 000.

"DON'T FUCKING DO-!" 000 screams as he ducks his coworker's fire, though the evasion leaves an opening for the grunt underneath him to grab him by the throat.

"Come now, Croagunk, venoshock!" he commands, firing a third shot that misses by mere centimeters as Croagunk springs forward and reels to cover the second Rocket grunt.

"NOT VENOSHOCK!" 000 shouts in a panic, breaking free of the grunt's choke hold with a surge of adrenaline and elbowing him straight in the teeth.  The grunt's head hits the ground with a sickening crack 100kr can hear from yards away.  000 tries to scramble away from him on his hands and knees, but loses his balance and narrowly avoids falling on his own face.  "NOT-"

The second grunt rips 000 off the ground by the hood of his marshmallow parka, cutting off the ignored order.  Croagunk's venoshock coats all three agents as 000 flails in fruitless effort.  The grunt releases his hold on the agent and stumble backwards towards 100kr, giving him an opening to shoot the hostile in the back of the head.  000 lands backwards on his rear with a thud, putting him clear of the remaining grunt, who struggles to move out of the toxic sludge coating him.  He stops moving when 100kr lodges the next bullet through his chest.

_Bullet count- five. This will be paperwork for certain..._

In the distance, pidgey squawk at the gunfire and a pack of rattatta scramble from one thicket to another on the far side of the pond.  Anyone out and about in the park surely heard the gunfire... Hvc6 might have heard it clear on the other side of the mountain.  100kr bites his lip as he remembers the point about avalanches in the safety analysis.  He isn't sure what is requisite to cause avalanches, though it's most likely some scientific function of decibel level and distance.  Being bad at math, the agent doesn't even know where to start with calculating that.  He'll just have to pray that he did _not_ cause an avalanche.

Well no, the safety analysis said rockslides.  Rockslides are hopefully different from avalanches.  Perhaps gunfire cannot result in rockslides.

000 shifts onto his knees and doubles over with his arms wrapped around his stomach, ignorant of the surrounding carnage that begins seeping into the muddy grass.  100kr hurries up to him, shooting the assaulted grunt point blank in the head for good measure (chest shots are always of questionable certainty).  000 throws a weak punch when 100kr puts a hand on his shoulder in attempt to check on his wellbeing.

"I'm going to kick your ass," 000 groans in misery before retching up what appears to be part of a waffle, "...I swear to fucking Tapu Bulu, I'm going to kick your ass."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Venoshock is a bitch.


	4. KoMM-3288:3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 1300

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Content warning: Considerably more vomit... which honestly is going to be a constant for the rest of this little saga. More than happy to summarize things for those with weak constitutions if/when I get free time.
> 
> Chapter is also sort of filler.

"Just give me a second," 000 groans from his seat in the muddy grass, sipping on a bottle of water from 100kr's pocket, "We'll get the hell out of here."

"Zeroes, you can hardly stand on your own volition," 100kr reminds him as he hovers over his partner, stuffing his hands in his coat pockets to avoid picking at his cuticles, "I shall call for a medevac."

He _should_ have paged for medevac half an hour ago, while 000 was preoccupied with vomiting and could not protest the decision.  100kr had been preoccupied himself, babbling half-coherent apologies in a slurry of jumbled languages, most of which his coworker did not comprehend.  Once the initial panic subsided, he wound up shaking out the contents of 000's backpack in a desperate search for _something_ to subside the vomit.  000 packed too little first aid material to save space for 100kr's pajamas, disregarding the medical kit recommendations as detailed in the International Police policy Section 6, Subsection 3.  The only items 000 brought along from that list were bandaids, and not even the large bandaids with the wings (instead the small circular ones suitable for no purpose whatsoever).  Tiny useless bandaids are worthless for vomit.

"You shall _NOT,"_ his coworker retorts as he prepares himself for standing, "KR, I'm on thin fucking ice as it is right now.  We're _not_ calling medevac on my account.  If you want to take a punch in the throat, by all means we can do that and I'll call on your behalf instead."

100kr's eyes remain fixed on his shoes.  There's no manner of language to express the extent of how much he did not intend to poison his teammate and best friend in the entire world.  He has nothing to fix his mistakes with.  Apologies will not fix the problem, but 100kr has no other remediation at the moment.  "...I am sorry."

He wishes he could fade to invisible.

000 grunts as manages to stand for the first time since taking a venoshock bath, unwilling to hear more apologies on the matter. "I know."

100kr holds back the urge to help his coworker to his feet (a gesture most untolerated, 100kr has learned over the years), ripping apart the cuticle on his thumb instead.  The agent had to duck another lame punch just for dragging 000 away from the bodies.  "I did not mean-"

"I KNOW," 000 cuts him off, stumbling backwards but keeping his balance,  "Fuck...  I can't fucking believe I was stupid enough to forget antidotes."

"Those are for pokemon!" 100kr exclaims in horror.

"They work fine on people." He turns away and wretches again, but it's a dry heave. Everything in his stomach has been expelled into the dirt and onto Looker's shoes.  100kr's stomach knots as he watches.  "We can just swipe one from a trainer."

"We will not be stealing ANYTHING!" 100kr reprimands, throwing his arms in the air to drive the point in.

000, for some unknown and concerning reason, holds the poor habit of attempting to steal from league challengers when they run out of equipment.  The two are elite agents of the International Police, they are above stealing.  Moreover, 000 and 100kr are _adults_ with _paychecks_ , they can rightfully purchase anything they need.  At some point in the future, 100kr needs to badger an explanation as to why his plans suddenly and immediately detour to petty theft, perhaps next time they go to the bar by the office.  000 tends to talk more about himself once he's intoxicated.

000 grumbles, removing his hat and wiping the sweat off his face with it, "Then I'll _buy_ one from a trainer.  I'm not getting medevac for this."

100kr digs through his coworker's backpack for the fourth time. There has to be _something_ in there that can save him.  At the rate he's going, he'll dehydrate in a few hours.

"In any case we need to get moving.  I don't feel like getting arrested by a park ranger." 000 pulls the cigarettes from his parka and moves to remove one from the pack.

100kr snatches the cardboard box from his partner's hand.  "ABSOLUTELY NOT."

The other agent shuts his eyes, mouthing a count to himself.  In lieu of a suspension a few months ago after fighting with Hvc6, 000 wound up in anger management class.  The class did little good beyond deterring the two from future fights on the premises of headquarters.  000 was still an angry little marshmallow (and the bar the two agents frequented was still out from under the eye of their superiors).  Until now, 100kr hadn't seen him utilize any of the techniques he complained about being forced to learn.

The counting had also been a particular pet peeve.  000 threw an absolute fit at the juvenility of a professional teaching him to count to twenty.  He snapped 100kr's favorite pen (at the time) in the process of this fit (and apologetically purchased him a new one, which quickly became 100kr's new favorite pen and thus remained out of reach of 000).

"You are already dehydrated," 100kr squeaks in an attempt to reason, taking a step backwards from his partner.

" _Five,_ " 000 whispers to himself, balling both his fists.

100kr winces, "This will make the problem worse."

" _SIX._ "

"You should not be smoking anyway."

" _SE_ -" Without warning, 000 keels forward and wretches sickly, fluorescent green into the grass. 100kr jumps back just in time to save his loafers from further ruin.  "Fuck."

"You are in need of a hospital, right away now," 100kr decides, reaching for the pager in his pocket.

"NO!" 000 shouts, lunging.  In this state, he has almost no momentum behind him and the pounce falls several feet short.  

100kr manages to catch the other agent before he falls into his own vomit.  "This is not good."

It's doubly not good, since 000 doesn't immediately wrench himself out of 100kr's hands.  This is _absolutely_ an emergency.

"Don't!  Keep the smokes, but for the love of all four fucking Tapus, do _not_ call for a medevac!" he pleads, his voice filled with uncharacteristic desperation.  "Please."

100kr isn't used to hearing 000 beg for anything.  The last time he did (for real anyway, he's fake begged to hostiles and pretty men at the bar before- his fake beg holds three times as much whine), he had been caught smoking on the roof of the training dorm and needed a false alibi from 100kr before he was removed from the agency.  The agent wound up providing him one without question- while he should _not_ have been on the roof, 100kr had to admit that the policy went unacknowledged and the International Police made no effort to keep them off of the roof.  Even 100kr had wandered up there.

Granted, the pleading had been intolerable after sixty seconds.

"Please 100kr," 000 repeats, shaking with either poisoning or nerves (or a combination of both), "I'm not even supposed to be here.  If Central sees that the asshole going to disciplinary this week got extracted for medical, they'll demote the Chief, fire me, and probably bus everybody else on this mission.  I already got the rundown from Spot.  Please don't call."

He has yet to jerk away from his coworker.  100kr assumes his partner runs a fever and wishes he had a grip on some part of him besides overstuffed parka.  000 will not accept fever checks and _will_ fall in his vomit if 100kr tries now.

"...Fine," 100kr agrees against every siren in his brain attempting to warn him otherwise.  "We will spend a time in an attempt to procure an antidote."

If he worsens, 100kr can still page medevac.  100kr may find himself dismissed for either making the call or pressing the issue of 000's involvement at headquarters yesterday morning.  Dismissed is not the ideal in any way, shape, or form, but 000 just threw up _neon_ .  He _requiring_ proper medical attention before his condition worsens.  Firing is preferred to dying.

An hour.  100kr will allot an hour. An hour should be sufficient time to stumble upon a trainer of some form or fashion now that the temperature has risen, and antidotes will cost little more than a small markup on the secondary market.  While the air might not yet be a temperature warranting 000 stripping off his hat, the weather warmed considerably since lunch.  Whatever fever can't have spiraled to a _dangerous_ level.  000 should have some chance of recovering without permanent damage.

"Thank you," 000 sighs in relief, yanking himself out of 100kr's grip.  He falls over sideways as he does so, landing with a rather sickening crack.  Not a bone crack, 100kr realizes as he jerks to help the other agent to his feet.  The noise sounded like heavy plastic, as if 000 had landed on a pen, or a radio, or...

"The pager," 100kr realizes aloud as 000 rolls over to push himself back to standing.  The pager lays in the grass in a pile of broken plastic, cheap circuit boards, and pieces of a now-dark LED screen.

No wonder he hadn't made an effort to pull away- 000 was busy pickpocketing the pager out of 100kr's coat pocket.

"Really Zeroes?!" he shouts, retracting his offer of assistance to the other man.  000 would have refused regardless, but the lack of offer should be significant nonetheless.

"Heh, I was gonna throw it in the lake, but this works too," 000 chuckles as he struggles to his feet.  He makes it halfway before vomiting again.

"Oh really now?" 100kr jerks him up by the hood, though he's not sure where the rest of the gesture is headed.  He could never strike the man, even if requisite.  100kr can't even bring himself to spar with him at the gym.  Given how seldom 000 practices fighting, 100kr could maim him with almost no effort.

All 100kr succeeds at is causing the other agent to drip neon green on his parka sleeve.

This time, 000 retracts, wiggling his way out of his coworker's grip. He stumbles and grabs his stomach with a wince as he does.  "It's a joke!  A joke KR! I was just gonna hold onto it!"

"Oh, I am sure!" 100kr shoots, scowling.

"It was a _joke_ ," 000 insists, wiping the vomit off on the grass, "Like you weren't going to wait until I wasn't looking and call anyway."

"...No." He tries to hand his partner a red handkerchief from his pocket for his parka, but 000 declines.  

Much unlike usual, 000 declines to provide a sarcastic comment on the handkerchief.  The handkerchief results in jokes about his partner living in another era. 100kr had stopped carrying it for a time, until 000's nose bled on a mission and required a spare pair of socks in its stead.  Granted, the handkerchief would have been ruined, but the moment could have served as a grand 'I told you so' for 100kr.  He resumed carrying it again on the off-chance of a second nosebleed.

" _es_ ," 000 counters with an eyeroll as he ties the parka around his waist, "I know you better than that.  Now let's get the fuck out here before a park ranger sees this shit."

100kr crosses his arms and scowls, "That does not make your actions in any way, shape, or form acceptable."

"I'm sorry I broke the damn pager!" he snaps, wobbling back to the main path without so much as glancing at his partner.  He attempts to stuff his hands in his pockets, but can't without losing his balance. "What else do you want me to say?"

"Acting somewhat remorseful for your actions would be appreciated," 100kr huffs, grabbing the backpack and hurrying to catch up with him.  

In truth, the agent is more scared than angry.  Breaking the extraction pager is against _several_ policies and they will no doubt be reprimanded for it, but most importantly, 000 could _die_ if they don't find help soon.  And it will be 100kr's fault if his partner does, he realizes with a gulp.  His stomach knots and he regrets his egg-salad sandwich.

100kr holds it down.  Two people vomiting will lead to a certain disaster.

" _You_ poisoned me, fool."  Grasping his stomach, 000 stops right before they reach the main path and struggles to stay on his feet.   "By the Tapu, this hurts."

"I am sorry..."

"Stop fucking apologizing." He crouches down, preparing to vomit again.  100kr takes another bottle of water from his backpack, but 000 waves it off.  "'s not helping."

100kr isn't sure if he intended to reference the apologies or the water with that statement.  "In that case, I will hurry ahead to the motel and obtain assistance for you.  You cannot stand, there is little chance you will be able to travel that far by walking."

100kr might not be a fantastic runner, but only five or so miles of trail remain  With the help of a little adrenaline surge from his dying coworker, he can at least jog the entire way.  Or, he can at least jog most of the way and walk with haste through the parts he cannot jog.

"No, you aren't," 000 disagrees.

"It is you who decided that H-Vac likely procured a ride and has already arrived at the motel.  He can arrange a method for me to transport back to you with... something," 100kr trails off, at a loss for what remedy his partner needs.  Pokemon antidote doesn't sound to be an adequate solution, 000 requires a proper doctor in this state.  Perhaps Hvc6 could arrange for ambulance transport.

"For one, I'm not taking help from fucking _H-Vac_ ," he says, shaking as he returns to standing, "For two, those are two dead _Rocket_ grunts, if you've already forgotten. There's probably more, which means we need to work today."

More than adequate time will remain for Hvc6 and 100kr to hunt Team Rocket _after_ 000 reaches medical attention.  000's argument is foolish at the very least and dangerous at the most.  While his point in regards to medevac and his upcoming disciplinary hearing holds some water, the International Police Policy, Section 6, Subsection 10, point 2 clearly states the acceptability matrix for pausing a mission due to medical emergency.  With a residual risk level of low and estimating 000's condition to be an 4 out of a possible 5, 100kr holds full authority to call off their task.

Well, perhaps he is only a 3, as 000 is still _quite_ responsive.  If 100kr remembers correctly, '4' is unresponsive and '5' is dead.  Well, 'dead' shouldn't fall on the matrix at all.  If an agent is dead, providing medical attention is fruitless and there would be no need to halt the mission.  '5' _must_ be unresponsive and 100kr cannot remember the matrix.

'4' may be an inability to walk. Well, that cannot be possible either, since Agent R99 utilizes a wheelchair.  That would place him perpetually at a '4' and none of his missions would be otherwise plausible.  100kr will reread that section of the policy on his next off days, since in any case, 000 will be opposed to him ending their part of the mission on account of the matrix.

"Do you have a plan compiled for any of this, Zeroes?"

"Yup," he states with a tremendous level of confidence for a man who cannot walk twenty feet without doubling over, "We're going to find a trainer.  We're going to get an antidote off them.  Then we're going to figure out where these Rocket fucks are coming from."

"This is the same plan from earlier."

"And it's still the plan now," 000 barks, "We've got shit to do."

100kr attempts to protest as his headstrong coworker struggles down the main path.  "But-"

"NOPE."

With a heavy sigh, 100kr follows along.  He can't do more than orbit 000 and gesture with the bottle of water.  The agent quite wants to vomit himself.  He _poisoned_ his best (... and only) friend, and he can't think of a single act within his power to alleviate the situation.  He can't even give 000 a hug and carry him the rest of the trail and tell him how unquestionably _sorry_ he is for this mess.

The hug and the carrying are against the International Police Policies.

Injuring a teammate is in there somewhere as well, but there's a matrix for determining fault.  Given the gravity of the situation, the options available, and 000's condition, 100kr hasn't even landed in the box for 'disciplinary action'.  Granted, he feels considerably more guilt than 'disciplinary action' could ever equate to.

In all seriousness, 100kr expected venoshock to temporarily impede 000, not stop him.  Croagunk managed to hit his trainer with venoshock a dozen or so times over the years, and he vomited maybe once or twice.  000's inability to stand back up after the attack came as rather surprising.  The other agent spent more time around pokemon than 100kr, and yet has no resistance to show for it.

Perhaps Alola lacks poison types.

"That would be most unfortunate," 100kr decides aloud, forgetting to shut his mouth when he thinks.

000 cocks an eyebrow, slowing to a stop, "Pardon?"

100kr flushes red.  He needs to learn to keep his thoughts in his brain.  In order to prevent himself from slipping into Kalosian during stressful situations (which happened on nine separate and embarrassing occasions to date), he started to make a habit of thinking in Kanto Standard more often.  Instead, the Kanto Standard just slips out of his brain through his mouth.  "Nothing."

" _This_ is 'most unfortunate', for the record," the other agent grumbles before doubling over and vomiting another mouthful of green.  "Don't say a Tapu damned word."

"It is the green that I find most concerning," 100kr tells him meekly, offering his waterbottle again.

"That's just bile, means there's nothing left to puke up," 000 shrugs, taking the waterbottle and popping the cap off.  The cap slides out of his fingers and onto the gravel as he takes a gulp.   "Eh, fuck."

100kr picks it up off the dirt for him and wipes it off on the handkerchief from his pocket, trying to keep the cap away from his bleeding thumbnail.  "Why do you possess this knowledge?"

Their medical training classes covered nothing of this sort.  The material reviewed dressing a wound, stitching a laceration, and replacing intestines (which unlike the two former, that has yet to be required of 100kr), but neon green appeared nowhere in the lecture.  100kr would know, he took copious detailed notes since 000 had a rather poor habit of passing out mid-lecture and making up the class material later.

He chuckles.  "Used to throw this shit up all the time when I had a real bad hangover."

"I have _never_ observed this color from you," 100kr remarks.

He's kept 000's head out of the toilet on multiple occasions after drinking.  After the initial incident in training school involving a heavily intoxicated 000 and a less-than-savvy 100kr, the agent has never been worried that his coworker would _die_ because of stumbling and vomit.  Falling all over himself when _sober_ though... that is different.  000 might die out here, and 100kr will have been the one to kill him.

"I don't drink that much these days," the smaller agent says under his breath, changing the subject before 100kr can respond, "Let's keep moving before this kills me."

Wincing, 100kr goes white.

000 shakes his head and takes a painstaking step down the path. "Figure of speech, KR."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HOLY SHIT I GOT THIS POSTED. So, fun story, new job has been a bit of a rough adjustment, sort of like Piper Alpha was a bit of a procedural oversight (major props to whoever gets that without google). I might be missing a few weekly updates in the future as a result.
> 
> Real talk though the first time I threw up bile I freaked out and went to the urgent care.


	5. KoMM 3288:4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 1400

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Content warning: Vomit, gross abuse of police authority, consumption of unrecognized food-like items.

 

100kr can do little more than continue his orbit around his coworker as they trod their way down the main path in slow silence.  000 stumbles every few feet, tripping on nothing and sending 100kr's stomach into painful knots every time. Still, the determined agent refuses to acknowledge his weakness and presses onwards at a slugma-like pace.  Every ten feet or so, he reaches into his pocket for his cigarettes, only to remember that 100kr has them stashed in a coat pocket, grumble, and continue with a pained expression.

After half a mile or so of this, 000 allows himself to stumble backwards after his requisite check and sits down on the path.

The orbiting comes to a screeching halt.  "Are you quite all right?!" 100kr exclaims, wringing his hands and helpless to any real action.  His coworker, however ill, would swat him away.

"Yeah, just give me... a second," 000 moans, clutching his stomach, "Need to catch my breath..."

Instead of breath catching, he dry heaves.  100kr hovers over him, his weight shifting between both feet.  000 is _going_ to die.  Perhaps very soon.  This is _entirely_ 100kr's fault, and there's nothing he can do to fix this right now.  He _needs_ to run ahead, or find a vehicle, or a bicycle, or carry 000 for the rest of the way.  Actually, he can't carry 000 as far as the end of the trail.  He cannot even struggle with Croagunk that far.  He ought to not run ahead with his coworker in this state either.

There's _no way_ for 100kr to solve this mess.

"We are needing to going to be having to-"  The words don't form.  Frustrated, 100kr stomps his feet in the dirt.  000 is going to die and he caused it and he can't even make his own _mouth_ work.  He's useless as an agent, a friend, and a person.

"KR, KR, KR!" 000 wheezes, "Calm... down!"

The other agent balls his fists, trying to regain his brain function.  000 is going to die.  "I- we are- you-"

"Sit!" 000 commands, his voice dropping to a bark.  

100kr does as told, dropping onto the gravel and crossing his legs.  The thought crosses his mind about how ruined his trousers will be between the gravel, coffee, and vomit, but he pushes it out.  He's useless right now and 000 needs him.  "Sitted," he replies, fumbling for a proper conjugation.  The words slip his mind.

His face contorting, 000 turns a spits up a mouthful of green into the gravel next to him before speaking.  "...Calm down.  I'm not dying."

"You could be dying."

"I'm _not_.  I'm just poisoned.  It's not the end of the Tapu-damned world," he curses.

100kr focuses his head on his lap.  "...I am sorry."

"I know," 000 sighs, wiping the sweat off his face with his sleeve.  "It's all right.  Shit happens.  It's behind us."

"...I am still sorry," 100kr mumbles, eyes fixed on the gravel.  The mumbling goes unheeded by his coworker.

"Point is.  Let's focus on what's in front of us, which is I need a fucking antidote.  Sooner than later." He spits up another mouthful of green into the gravel, turning just in time to avoid retching it on 100kr.  "By the Tapu how much of this is fucking in me?!"

"Apparently quite a lot," 100kr notes, searching in his pocket for... something.  

He has no idea.  He isn't sure what helps poisoning beyond antidotes and he hasn't felt this _helpless_ since his teenage (well, pre-IP) years.  Even then, 100kr's childhood helplessness never _endangered_ anyone, particularly not his best friend.

"I'll say.  Fuck..." 000 hangs his head back and sighs, "Just need to catch my breath.  That's all."

"Perhaps I should run ahead and obtain help-"

"No," 000 interjects, wincing, "...Don't."

"I shall- I shall-" His mouth fails him again.  In desperation, 100kr closes his eyes tries to recall the stress management class from training -count to ten, breath slow and deep.  Relax muscles.  Try to think positive, as if somehow 000 isn't too weak to stand.  Stress management class and 000's anger management class have a surprising amount of overlapping curricula, which in light of 000's perpetual lack of stress, is downright _ironic_.

"C'mon fool, get up."

100kr opens his eyes to see the other agent hovering over him, hands braced on his knees for balance.

"Are you positive?" 100kr asks biting his lip and pushing himself off the ground.  He racks his brain for an alternative plan.  000 can't possibly walk the remaining... four? five? miles to the hotel.  They haven't seen another human in hours.  He will be dead long before 100kr can escort him to civilization.

000 shrugs as he stretches upright, "Don't exactly have options here."

His point holds an unfortunate and horrible amount of truth.

Or perhaps not.  As 100kr brushes himself off, 000 shouts out of nowhere, in his 'police voice' bark,  "HEY STOP! INTERNATIONAL POLICE!"

100kr swings around, gun drawn, expecting to face another batch of Team Rocket grunts.  Whatever item this mission was designated to collect, it holds an unexpected level of importance.  Two teams of grunts trawling the same recon area would be otherwise downright foolhardy.

Instead of more Team Rocket, 100kr turns to see a trainer of about half their age quaking his sneakers at the point where the trail turns behind a rock outcropping.  The boy's hand shakes as he reaches in his pocket.  In light of spotting 100kr's gun, he retracts the action and instead puts his hands in the air.  000 points at him, gesturing the child to approach.

100kr slams his .45 back in its holster.  "000, _really?!_ "

000 ignores his coworker, standing as straight as possible and digging for the badge buried somewhere in his pocket, "C'mere kid!"

"This is an abuse of our authority!" he reprimands, throwing his hands on his hips.  As agents of the International Police, they hold authority over _most_ authoritative figures in the six League Regions, but under no circumstances should they _misapply_ this authority.  The International Police Policies, Section 1, Subsections 1 and 2 take great effort to clarify this _._  Misapplication of authority would _include,_ though not explicitly stated, the accosting of League Challengers. Moreover, and without exception, this includes the _theft_ of anything from a civilian, which will be the next step in 000's grander plan (explicitly stated in Section 1, Subsection 12... though allowed in the event of a class five threat and appropriate MoC documentation, which does not apply here).

If he weren't apt to vomit, 100kr would throw his hand over his coworker's mouth.  In three years, he's never seen 000 act so _distastefully._ While he lacks decorum and ignores the finer policy details, 000 follows the more important rules.

"I'm dying, KR. Shut up," 000 snaps as he flips his badge open to prove his point to the trainer, "RIGHT NOW, KID!"

In lieu of obeying, the trainer bolts in the opposite direction and disappears behind the outcropping.

100kr takes off in a full sprint after the League Challenger, leaving 000 behind with his mouth hanging open.  He doesn't need orders from 000- while they may be abusing their power, even 100kr agrees that something is inherently _amiss_ when a child runs from a police officer, and this at least warrants follow-up.  

The chase ends with all the abruptness it began with.  100kr has twice the age, twice the length of leg, and four times the physical stamina.  In under a minute, the agent has him scooped off the ground and restrained.

"Stop! Let me go! I know my rights!" the boy yells, squirming.  100kr takes a stronger-than-expected kick in the thighs as he turns to bring the boy back to where his coworker (who left the chasing to the less poisoned agent) stands.

"Yes, yes.  But you would not be running now if you had nothing to be running from, would you not?" the agent points out, trying to keep his grip on the trainer.  The child is heavy, at least as heavy as 000 whenever he drinks too much and needs assistance traveling home from the bar.

He makes a mental note of this fact. 000 should weigh _more_ than a ten year old.  Perhaps the trainer is eleven or twelve, though 000 should also weigh more than a twelve year old.  The weight similarity is quite concerning, and 100kr decided to investigate this issue at some point in the future when 000 ceases dying.

The child twists around manages to slap 100kr in the side of the head instead of responding.  The agent tries his hardest to ignore the gesture.  "I must make mention, this behavior is particularly foolish of you.  You already have received visual confirmation of a firearm on my person, and yet you continue with your physical assault."

Continuing with his unruly behavior, the trainer boxes him hard in the ear.  100kr resists the urge to flip him upside-down.  He's already abusing his authority as an agent of the International Police, though as the child elbows him in the nose, this philosophy somehow loses any value 100kr once held with it.  Perhaps 000 brought a pair of handcuffs, because the delinquent trainer needs a march to the next police station for a hard-learned lesson in justice and polite behavior.

To scare him straight, not for any sort of retribution for the blood that starts to gush down 100kr's lips and chin.  It's nothing more than a bloody nose and this is why he carries a handkerchief.  Besides, retribution would be against the International Police's Policies, Section 1, Subsection 5, points 20 to 26.

"You talk funny.  Where are you from?" the child asks, dropping his weight in an attempt to escape.

100kr stumbles but the plan fails.  Three years of carrying drunk 000 homer has prepared him for sudden changes in load distribution.  "Sinnoh," he grumbles, remembering the mission paperwork's statement about 'not Alola'.

"My neighbor is from Sinnoh and you don't sound like her."

"There are _many_ accents in Sinnoh."

"If you're from Sinnoh, why are you in the Kanto Police?"

"Let us review the definition of the word ' _International_ ', shall we?"  He drops the trainer with a thud a few feet from 000.  "I believe I have recovered your reincarnation."

"I'm not dead _yet_ ," 000 grumbles, before barking more orders.  "All right kid, turn out your pockets.  Doing a contraband inspection."

"Or what?" the trainer snaps, standing back up.  He eyes 100kr as he reaches into his pocket for the handkerchief, too afraid of the .45 to run again.

100kr sighs and pinches his nose, trying to stop the bleeding.  At least the handkerchief has come in handy for _someone_.  The point would be driven better if the child elbowed 000 in the nose instead.

"Or I'll wring your little punk hide out," 000 snaps, before turning his head and spitting up more green into the dirt.

"You couldn't," he insists, though less confident.  Illness or no, the other agent strikes a more imposing figure than 100kr could ever manage.

000 clenches his fists.  "All right kid, I'll battle you for whatever's in your pockets.  How's that sound?  Think of it like practice for your next gym."

The trainer grumbles, but reaches into his pocket for a pokeball, "Fine."

100kr winces. Battling a league challenger for an antidote is _wrong_ , on an ethical, procedural, and _practical_ level.  "Erm, Persian has yet to reappear, or have this slipped your mind?"

The other agent stops reaching for his own pokeball. "Fuck, that cat is _never_ around when I need her.  Lemme borrow Croagunk."

100kr crosses his arms and scowls.  "Positively not.  This is at best an inappropriate and egregious and-"

And 000 throws up a mouthful of bile, missing the trainer by a few inches.

"Uh, sir, are you sick?!" the boy questions, darting behind 100kr for cover.

Grunting, 000 wipes his mouth with his forearm.  "Bad case of ebola."

"WHAT?!"

"Consequences of not using a condom, kid. Let it be a lesson to you," 000 replies, his voice lacking any indication of sarcasm.

100kr rolls his eyes.  This is less than appropriate conversation for a child of his age.  And also incorrect on several levels, but that's less relevant.  " _ZEROES_."

000 shrugs, "Might as well teach him something useful. Since we're authority and all and about to beat his ass."

"He cannot be more than ten years old!" he gestures at the confused and horrified trainer.

"I'm thirteen!" The boy stamps his foot in protest, as if the three years holds some modicum of importance (it does... 100kr has reported his age as "nearly twenty" since joining the International Police- it will be true in less than a month).

In any case, it is comforting to know 000 weighs the same at a thirteen year old instead of a ten year old.  However, that does not deem the subject matter appropriate and still does not make battling a child for a antidote appropriate.  If they were not deep into 000's ruse already, 100kr would offer to purchase one outright.

After the dead bodies by the lake, however 100kr can't justify allowing a child to run off to a park ranger.  A report of two International Police agents, one misapplying authority and the other poisoned, will not reflect well when it rolls across the Chief's desk.  100kr can imagine her screaming reprimands over the matter.  A trainer with fainted pokemon and a wild story, on the other hand, may just be dismissed as a poor excuse for soliciting the assistance of a ranger.

That does not mean 100kr finds this all less _distasteful_ by any means.  000 is dying.  Forget whatever misapplication of power the two agents should not partake in.  The trainer is the _best_ option that has appeared all morning.

"He's old enough.  Seriously KR, lemme borrow Croagunk."

"Yes, yes," he tosses Croagunk's pokeball at 000, who catches it in one hand.  "I forewarn you, he will not be pleased about this at all."

000 releases Croagunk, who is _not_ pleased to be woken again.  He kicks at 000, earning a scolding from 100kr.  Croagunk knows better than to attack friends... even if he accidentally attacked a friend whilst under orders a few hours ago.  That is an exceptional case.  100kr will discuss the differences later.

"There's cheesepuffs in my backpack, Croagunk.  They're all yours after this," 000 promises as the trainer stares wide-eyed at the frog.

"What is that?" the boy asks, backing up even further.

"He can have _some_ cheesepuffs," 100kr corrects as Croagunk smiles and attempts to shake the child's hand, though it turns to a frown when the challenger declines in fear.  "A croagunk.  Non-native here mind you, but perhaps your journey will allow you to see one in the wilds someday."

"Not with the bullshit immigration restrictions to Kalos, it won't," 000 snorts.

"They are native to Sinnoh as well," 100kr reminds his coworker, wondering how much trouble he can find himself in for exposing a young trainer to a non-native pokemon.  The policies have no rule describing this situation, but 000 has always been instructed to  _lie_ about Persian's exact nature.

"No sane person wants to go to Sinnoh," 000 grumbles, "Okay kid, what do you have?"

The trainer drops his pokeball instead, terrified of Croagunk.  "I give up!  I don't want to fight!  I'll confess!"

000 spits up again, partially out of shock, and 100kr drops his handkerchief.

"And confess to what, exactly?" the taller agent scolds, though he can't imagine a young league challenger could have found himself too awry of the law.

The trainer throws a handful of berries at 000's feet- all shaped somewhat like exotic mushrooms but brightly colored. "I bought these off some Team Rocket guys a couple miles off the trail!  I knew they were illegal!  I'm sorry!  I'm out of everything else!" he cries, tears swelling in his eyes.

Neither agent has a guess at how to respond to the situation unfolding.  100kr and 000 stare at each other in equal levels of confusion.  Per the International Police Policies, Section 5, Subsection 5, and Kanto embargo laws, they have to arrest the child and await pickup by the local police force.  It's unlawful to pick berries in Kanto and even more unlawful to use them in battle.  Unfortunately, 000 is dying, they broke the pager, and they've gone awful of several important policies themselves.  Arresting the boy is out of the question at the moment.

"You know kid, these aren't native here," 000 notes, taking a knee as if to inspect the pile. By the way he's clutching his stomach, he's lost his ability to stand again and trying to obscure this fact.

"I know! I know!  I just needed enough to get to the next center!" he sobs, "Please!  I was desperate!"

100kr mouth hangs open, unsure of how to proceed.  Their training specifically covers adult hostiles and hysterical bystanders, never a hysterical youth criminal.  This need to be added to the ethics training, though that would require 100kr admitting their predicament to Central.  He doesn't even want to admit this in his daily field report.  As it stands, he will take hours phrasing the encounter to not implicate their regression from proper protocol.

Croagunk attempts to pat him on the head, but the challenger shrieks and jumps out of the way. "Please don't attack me!"

Croagunk huffs in disapproval, crossing his arms and glaring.

"Croagunk, stand here next to me for now," 100kr instructs him, realizing his pokemon is perhaps quite frightening to someone who has never seen a fifty pound amphibian before.  Croagunk tends to not assume he is anything other than quite cute... which may or may not be 100kr's doing.  "Erm, well, we will have to place you under arrest-"

The trainer begins to bawl.  "I can't to go to juvie! I'll give you all the money I have!  I just can't go to juvie!"

"Ah, purchasing knowingly from a criminal organization will perhaps lead to trial as an adult."

Plopping onto the gravel, the boy cries incoherently into his hands.  000 stares up at his partner, shaking his head.  "KR... _seriously_?"

"To remind you, the youngest Rocket Grunt we have apprehended was aged about the same and the results were as such."

"By the... _Arceus,_ he's a damn kid," 000 sighs, turning back to the kid.  "Calm down, we're not arresting you.  And we're not taking your money.  We're not _that_ corrupt," he adds the last part under his breath.

The boy stops crying for a moment, looking up from the palms of his hands.  "Really?"

"Yeah," 000 replies, poking at the pile of berries, "I'm gonna confiscate these obviously, and in the future, quit fucking cheating."

"Language," 100kr reminds him in exasperation.  They should not release the trainer, under any circumstances... though once again, the two have no better option.

"There's worse written on the bathroom walls at his school, KR," 000 shoots as he glares at the other agent, "Anyway, if you're out of items, just double back and wave off battles from now on.  Do it _honestly_.  All right?"

The trainer sniffles, but stands up. "...Okay.  You promise you won't arrest me?"

"Promise.  Now get the hell out of here."

"Thank you!  Thank you thank you thank you!"  Smiling, the boy stands back up and dart off in the direction he came.  In a few seconds, he's disappeared behind the outcropping.

"Yeah, yeah, you're welcome,"  000 grumbles, holding up a berry to inspect it, "What do you think these are?"

"I thought you recognized their identity when you mentioned they were not native!"

"I've got no fucking clue," he shoves one in his mouth and continues to speak while chewing, "They'll do _something_."

"Are you sure this is particularly wise?" 100kr winces, "You have no knowledge what they are or what effects they have."

"I've eaten these before," he shrugs, grimacing as he swallows, "Fuck, these are the spicy ones..."

"Perhaps stop at one, in that case," 100kr recommends nervously as his coworker gulps down two more.  If the taste is poor, that cannot bode well for their effects.

000 freezes, his face suddenly horror-stricken.  "Fuck, _these_ are-"

He never finishes his sentence.  Instead, his pupils begin to dilate and the few pieces of berry still left in his mouth fall onto the ground.  His arms go limp and his hands hit the floor, as if 000 lost all control of his muscles.  Giggling madly, the agent topples onto his side.

100kr jumps to attention, scooping him up by the armpits and shaking him.  "ZEROES!  ZEROES!"

"Spicy ones..." 000 mutters, his head rolling with each shake.  His eyes don't focus, but his mouth twists into a gaping smile that contorts his face.   "Berries..."

"Oh dear..." 100kr mutters as he tries to put him back on his feet. Panic rushes through the taller agent and he tries not to lose his grip on his coworker.  This isn't good, those berries could have been toxic.  100kr doesn't know, he's never been a trainer.  Croagunk takes medicine if he falls ill, not strange plants.   "Zeroes!  What is happening?!"

"Zeroes," 000 repeats, his legs threatening to buckle even with 100kr grasping him.  "Zeroes!"

100kr starts breathing doubles.  Vomiting might have been far from ideal, but this... whatever _this_ is, it is a _thousand_ times worse.  "Zeroes, please... this is not a particularly funny ruse if this is your idea of a joke..."

"Zeroes!" 000 shifts his weight and falls backwards out of 100kr's hands.   Despite 100kr's best efforts to catch him, he lands on his rear and starts laughing harder.

Croagunk attempts prop 000 up, adding a concerned pat on the head.  The agent, squealing in delight, grabs the pokemon and pulls him into a bear hug, falling backwards.  Croagunk flails and slides out of his grasp, waddling away as fast as his tiny legs can move.  000 doesn't seem to notice the sudden lack of pokemon and continues to laugh to himself while staring at the sky.

"Just... just stay in that spot... for a just moment Croagunk... maybe... maybe..." 100kr tries to instruct his unsettled pokemon, but words fail him.  Even if he spoke in Kalosian, he could not force coherency.  "Maybe..."

"Berries!" 000 adds from where he lies, pointing up at the clouds in the sky.

A growl erupts from behind 100kr, making his heart jump into his throat.  He spins on his heels in time to see a familiar purplish cat lunge at him.  Persian's claws detract and latch into his shoulders, tackling him to the gravel.  The cat pushes her nose against 100kr's, teeth bared, and digs her claws past his blazer and into skin.  100kr can feel the blood start to seep out of him.

"I-i-it- it is an accident, Persian!  An accident!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Skipping next week's update and possibly the week after. The last two weeks have been exhausting and next week is supposed to be more of the same. Allegedly, it's supposed to let up after that so I'll have time to sit down and really do things that aren't what I get a paycheck for.
> 
> I put a lot of thought into that berry, I'll give points to whoever guesses the reasoning behind it.


	6. KoMM-3288:5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 1445

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Content warning: More vomit, and 000 is... under the influence of a strange berry. 100kr is bleeding a little too but nobody cares, including him.  
> Also mentions of 000's inability to hide his porn and 100kr's very very not functioning brain.  
> Uh, rating will be increased if requested.

100kr stares into Persian's menacing black eyes as she raise a paw and threatens to slash him across the face.  He tries not to yelp in pain as her claws rip out of him, instead focusing on translating the thoughts screaming through his head.

"I promise!  It is of an accident Persian!" he pleads, no longer sure if he's more afraid of for the trainer than he is of the pokemon.  Persian's approval is conditional.  She would kill 100kr in a heartbeat if he hurt 000.  She would probably kill 000 for less.

He _has_ hurt 000, he remembers with a gulp.

From behind his head, Croagunk croaks something at Persian, his loyalty to his trainer as strong as hers.  100kr twists to see him flailing his arms in attempt to clear the misunderstanding... or the understanding. Partial misunderstanding.  100kr deserves Persian's anger for poisoning his friend, but tearing open his throat won't serve as an adequate solution to their predicament.  000 made himself loose his mind, in all fairness.

"It is just the results of an accident!" he reiterates in desperation, "I am sorry! I apologize sincerely!"

Persian snorts in his face, but retracts her claws and steps off him.  Croagunk, feeling bolder now that she isn't threatening to murder his trainer, squawks at her, arms flailing.  Pushing past the frog as if he were a fallen branch, she props 000 back to sitting with her head.  Croagunk instead charges 100kr for a hug as he sits back up.

"B-be- be nice Croagunk," 100kr stutters, trying not to shake as he pets the head burrowing into his chest, "Nothing is being accomplished by being angry about each other."

100kr tries to hear his thoughts over the sound of his heart pounding.  He can't think.  000 always comes up with plans, not him.  100kr's plans tend to fail and his coworker picks up the pieces.  000 found an escape route when 100kr kicked in the wrong door at the Rocket hideout in Floroma.  000 grabbed the fire extinguisher when 100kr decided he would try his hand at spaghetti carbonara.

100kr is woefully dependant on the man.  On top of poisoning his coworker and his best friend, he might kill the one person he needs more than anyone else- and not even in any interpretation that would be against the International Police Policies.  Granted, if 000 dies, 100kr will never get a chance to break the policies anyway.  Not that he wanted that, obviously, but the fact remains he might have killed his cute marshmallow coworker and he can't find a solution to prevent this.  100kr can't breathe- his throat closes up as he gasps for air.  He squeezes Croagunk, shutting his eyes and attempting to count to ten.  The words come out in Kalosian but it is a count nonetheless.  

He is approaching his thought the wrong way, he decides as the oxygen returns to his brain.  What 100kr would do in this situation would fail, as 100kr's plans tend to do.  What would 000 do right now?

 _Well, Zeroes would press forward_.  Forward has been plan since 000 was poisoned.  Sitting around in panic wastes time they don't have.  100kr has to stand and continue forward, there is little better option.

"You're so soft..." 000 tells Persian, rubbing her head.  Persian stares at her trainer in disamusement, but licks his face again.

"Yes, yes, very soft indeed," 100kr tells him, reaching for 000's shoulder.  Persian stands on her haunches and growls at him.  The agent snaps his hand away.  "P-Persian, we are in needing to continue!  We- we cannot be staying here!"

The cat narrows her eyes, but sits down, as if awaiting 100kr's next course of action.

"Zeroes is quite sincerely having an illness right now," 100kr explains, unsure if he's talking to Persian as much as he is thinking out loud.  His words flow without any consideration, and he can't tell if they have any coherence, "Continue we must this way onwards to bring him to medical attention.  I know with me you are angry at this moment, but you need to have trust in me. You cannot possibly carry him safely to help."

Granted, it isn't for lack of trying on 000's part- the agent wraps himself around Persian's neck.  She struggles to remain upright as the confused man leans all his weight on her.  "Soft..." he mumbles, rubbing his face in her fur.

Persian twists and bites the collar of her trainer's t-shirt.  Done with the silliness, she drags her trainer through the dirt by the collar towards 100kr.  000 giggles in delight despite scrapping against the gravel.  She drops him against the other agent’s shoes, indicating that the responsibility has been passed.

"Right.  Thank you Persian," 100kr says as he picks his coworker up by the armpits again and puts him back on his feet.  

He wobbles for two steps and then falls onto his face, just missing Persian.

"This will not work," 100kr thinks aloud, propping the other agent back to sitting.  

000 rubs his nose and grumbles to himself, scowling.  At least the scowl appears normal, 100kr decides.  The laugh felt disconcerting at best, considering the man generally offers no more than a snide smile and a cruel chuckle.  Perhaps a few more bumps will bring him closer to normal.   His inability to walk, however, complicates their issue.  While his health seems to have improved, or at least he hasn't vomited in the past ten minutes, the hotel is still a good four miles away.

Gently, 100kr picks 000 off the ground again and throws the agent over his shoulder.  The holes in his shoulders smart and tear open, but he ignores the pain.  Four miles is not too long of a distance, not the longest 100kr has ever walked and not the longest he's had to carry something.  The task should come easy enough, 000 does not weigh much.

000 squeals with delight, though his flailing nearly results in a second bloody nose.

"Calm down Zeroes," 100kr chastises, as if talking to Croagunk, "You are quite hard to keep ahold of."

Feeling left out, Croagunk reaches his arms and gestures for 100kr to pick him up as well.

"Croagunk, I will be needing you to walk... or return into your ball for some times now."

The pokemon waves his arms in the air, insistent on also obtaining a ride. 000 may have a point- Croagunk is a _little_ spoiled.  They shall have a discussion about this when they return home, but for now, he does need for his companion to cooperate.

Granted, being cross is difficult.  Croagunk is very cute.  "Not now.  I am needed to help Zeroes."

"Helping!" 000 repeats, trying to twist himself around and wave back at Croagunk.

"You are not acting like helping, no," the other agent sighs as he tightens his grip on the squirming agent, "Croagunk, please.  You can be behaving better than this, I know you are capable of better behavior."

Croagunk turns his back and waddles to Persian instead, dragging 000's backpack with him.  The cat shoots a begrudging glare at 100kr before leaning down for the other pokemon to hop on.   She stands back up proudly after he climbs on and wraps his arms around her neck, as if flaunting her ability to cooperate.  The cooperation would have been more helpful _before_ she decided to claw 100kr in the shoulder.  Better late than never, perhaps.

"All right, let us be departing," 100kr announces, trying to shift 000 into a comfortable position on his shoulder.  Perhaps he weighs _more_ than a thirteen year old, which, while comforting, is less than desirable at this very moment.

He is also quite cold. 100kr knew he goes cold after drinking (the only other time he's picked the man up), but he assumed this phenomenon was the result of the alcohol.  He had researched the matter- alcohol constricts blood vessels, cuts off circulation, and results in a low body temperature.  To his knowledge, 000 hasn't drank anything today.  Moreover, he should have been running a fever based on the way he was sweating.

Their mystery berry might kill 000 faster than the poison at this rate.  The agent picks up his pace, trodding as fast as he can with an extra... 130 or 140 pounds, estimated.  Really, 000 should weigh more than this as a grown man who attends the gym. Perhaps 100kr will discuss the matter with him when they're safe at the hotel.

If they can make it safely to the hotel, in any case.

\---

"You're also soft," 000 informs his coworker for what must be the tenth time in twenty minutes, petting the back of 100kr's head.

100kr's heart sank the first eight times he announced this (partially because being soft and the discovery of being soft are against the International Police Policies, but mostly because the comments serve as an indicator of how far 000 has deviated from his right mind).  However, the last few times have slipped somewhere into the realm of _annoying_.  "Yes, yes, thank you," he responds, trying his best to remain pleasant and polite.  

A poor attitude accomplishes nothing, as outlined in the International Police Policies, Section 5, Subsection 2, points 7 and 8.  Granted, the International Police Policies give no words in regards to assigned mission partner losing their mind while poisoned and with a broken extraction pager.  Perhaps the author of the Policies would allow more forgiveness in regards to a lack of pleasant in this particular scenario.

Croagunk at least ceased his unproductive squawking about the lack of ride. 100kr can't tell if it's because he's come to an understanding about their dire straits or if Persian serves as a preferable mount.   Either is acceptable for the time being.

If it were not for the impending death of his best friend, this _would_ be a rather pleasant mission.  The sun shines, the weather has warmed to a perfect spring day since the morning, and 000 has yet to vomit or complain.  In fact, his sentences, despite the subject matter centered on 100kr's hair, have been complete for the last ten minutes.  His condition might yet improve.

"I'm hungry," 000 whines from behind 100kr's head.

Perhaps hoping for a lack of complaining was a foolhardy endeavor.

"We shall stop for... something in a few minutes," 100kr replies, shifting 000 in an attempt to quiet him.  

The path here twists and along the side of the mountain, leaving hardly enough room for both he and Persian to walk side-by-side.  The agent intended to save breaks for the next section of trail.  As far as food goes, all that remains are the cheesepuffs 000 neglected to consume at lunch, which don't quite constitute a meal.  100kr can wait until they reach the hotel, but his injured companion hasn't eaten anything all day. If anything, that will escalate the poison damage.

"I'm _hungry_!" 000 repeats, flailing. 100kr loses his grip and nearly drops the other agent.  If the berry caused some sort of strange reversion to childhood, 100kr feels rather thankful he did not meet the man until adulthood.  Normal 000 is rather accommodating about a lack of food product (though he would have wanted to sit down and nap by now, which childlike 000 seems not interested in) and, moreover, _quiet._

Persian hisses at him, bringing the whining and squirming to a halt.  000 grumbles and rubs 100kr's hair instead.  The head rubs are firmly against the International Police Policies, but 100kr can at least genuinely not enjoy them. The hand running through his hair feels _alien_ at best and _depressing_ at worst.  Normal 000 won't touch him, and the longer 100kr spends with the compromised version of his coworker, the more he misses normal 000.

"It is not but a few more yards, I believe," 100kr informs him, though he has no honest idea of the length of the trail section.  The map is wedged in 000's back pocket.  It shall remain there, though 100kr wishes in vain that his coworker's squirming would knock it loose.

"I'm hungry," his coworker continues to whine, though with less squirming and more drawn out grumbles.  "You're hungry."

Shaking his head, he rounds the bend, "In a few minutes we will stop-"

100kr stops short, almost dropping 000.  Rocks lay strewn over the path ahead, accumulating in a massive wall of a pile across the trail and tumbling over the mild cliff on the other side of the path.  Their safety analysis said 'rockslides' for a very good reason, as it turns out.   No wonder they have yet to see many trainers- the main path does not continue through the course of the park.

Worse, perhaps he _caused_ the rockslide this morning.  100kr isn't sure what decibel level would cause a rockslide.  His .45 is not quiet, and despite his well-elaborated, multi-page reasoning for a suppressor, inventory will not budge on the policy that novice agents are ineligible to use one.  He could have _easily_ caused the rockslide.

They _surely_ would have heard a rockslide.  "They cannot be _quiet_ events, can they?" the agent asks himself.

"Hungry is not quiet," 000 informs him, his mind relegated to one track.

100kr sighs, "We will stop here".

"Stopping! I like stopping!"

At least 000's current personality is holds some similarity to his normal personality, even though out of his mind and very loud.  Normal 000 would agree that they were stopping here.  Perhaps he would even take another nap or acquiesce to the extraction pager.

"You have yet to walk on your own accord, you know," 100kr retorts, putting his coworker on the ground.  

Persian wanders over and licks his face, though she backs away before she can find herself bear-hugged.  The agent flops over, his momentum carrying through the attempt.  Persian props him back up with her head before wandering over to Croagunk and taking the backpack out of his hands with her teeth.

Croagunk flips, waving his arms and croaking at her.  He's ignored as Persian drops the backpack at 100kr's feet.  Unlike 000, 100kr has the mental faculties to find the cheesepuff bag from earlier, and from the looks of it, all three of the agent's companions are hungry (though only 000's repeats this matter).  Croagunk attempts to take the bag back as 100kr picks it up and slings it over his shoulder.

000 had promised him the entire bag of cheese puffs, 100kr realizes.

Perhaps he should have a talk with 000 as well about spoiling.

"Croagunk, this is of utmost seriousness.  We need to share what food we have," he reprimands, inspecting the rockpile blocking their path and shifting his weight between feet as he picks at the scabs around his thumb.

The pokemon crosses his arms, but stops reaching for the backpack. Croagunk has spent enough time with his trainer to realize when and what may unleash it in full force.  Fortunately, unlike an ill coworker and best friend, a pile of rocks falls within obstacles he can tackle with the knowledge he's gained from working in the International Police.

Or not.  The pile stands far too steep to climb with 000, the agent determines as he tries in vain to find a handhold that won't tumble apart, perhaps too steep even without him.  He would try, but on the whole the act of 'leaving 000 alone while soliciting aid' would regress their situation.  While 000 hasn't vomited yet, 100kr cannot be reassured the poisoning has vanished.  Knowing their luck today, 100kr would return with H-Vac or a medical evacuation or _someone_ and find his best friend dead on the trail.

Besides, 100kr realizes as he watches his coworker stuff a handful of grass into his mouth, 000 is too far from... mental clarity to wait alone while 100kr runs for help.

"Spit that out!" 100kr orders, jumping off the pile and scrambling to the other agent.  

000 cocks an eyebrow, as if he _isn't_ chewing on wild plants.  100kr has half a mind to reach in his mouth for the grass, though the general... inappropriateness of the action stops him.  Most likely it is covered somewhere within IP Policy Section 7, Subsection 3, points 6-11... though shoving his hand in any other agent's mouth shouldn't be in the category of sexual harassment and the more 100kr thinks about it, the sillier the entire notion seems.  Besides, 000 just ate _grass_.  From the side of the trail.  And some dirt as well.

He instead shakes the smaller man by the shoulders, demanding he spit it out and resolving to stop watching the inappropriate videos 000 forgot were within the collection of videos he loaned the other agent.  In 100kr's defense, his coworker had forgotten he taped over some of his VHSs at some point in the past and the viewing had been unavoidable.  He certainly didn't _expect_ for _Mission to the Ends of the Earth III_ to cut to a pornography.  Though to 100kr's own hideous personal admission, some were just stored in the wrong jacket and 100kr will now be returning said VHS collection and never speaking of any of this to his coworker.

That is, if he lives long enough and refrains from eating anymore nature.

"I'm hungry!" 000 shouts, swallowing the mouthful.

100kr shakes him again out of sheer bewilderment.  "DO NOT EAT STRANGE PLANTS!"

Ironically, that is what brought them to this point in the first place.  100kr has never known 000 to consume anything that doesn't come out of a machine-sealed bag, a can, or a restaurant kitchen. The events today seem _overwhelmingly_ related. Granted, the IP policy on eating nature is rather explicit. 'Foraging' is forbidden per Section 6, Subsection 28, points 4 and 5. The agent had wondered what incident resulted in the policy's existence in the past, though the reasoning behind it now makes clear sense.

000 crosses his arms, unamused by the shaking and the resistance to a trail grass lunch.  "I'm hungry."

"Fine, fine, fine..." Escape routes and rock climbing will have to wait until after a snack.  He digs through the haphazardly packed backpack, searching for the crushed bag of neon snacks buried at the bottom.  They're smooshed, but they're food, 100kr decides as he bites the bag open and hands it to Croagunk, who while in a mood, is the other party member with both sanity and fingers.   "Share," 100kr reminds him, pointing at 000 and Persian.

Persian snorts, disinterested in brightly colored processed foods.  000 lunges for Croagunk, somehow on his feet now that food is involved.  The pokemon jumps backwards as the agent falls on his face for the second time.

"Well, he has managed two steps," 100kr sighs to himself as he sits down on a rock to think through their predicament and attempt to evade another panic attack, "This is a good sign."

The agent shoves each one into his mouth and halfway chews, only to immediately outstretch his hand for another.  Croagunk looks unamused with the man's behavior, but drops another puff in his hand every time with a reluctant scowl.

While it's well and good 000 doesn't appear ill anymore, the rockpile sends 100kr's stomach into knots.  He might be the root cause of that rockpile just as he is the route cause of 000's illness and perhaps even the encouragement to eat the mind-altering berries.  It's nothing but one more huge mistake tallying up the reasons his coworker may not survive today and it will be all 100kr's fault.  Even if the agent weren't at fault 000 means more to him than sitting on a rock and doing nothing, but that's _all_ 100kr can manage.  He should be coming up with some sort of alternative or b-option or scouting the area or... anything!

The agent puts his head to his knees and begins a drawn-out count to ten  Their day is _improving._  000 doesn't seem close to immanent death anymore, even if he is a little mindless and quite helpless.  He has time right now to _think._   There isn't any point in wasting it on blind panic. The park _must_ have some sort of alternative throughway, because the two passed a few other joggers this morning.

Well, they did pass a divergence not a quarter mile down the trail.  That section of trail appears to lead downhill, which would be easier for 100kr to carry 000 through (everything _hurts_ , even if he is in reasonable shape and 000 doesn't weigh much).  The underlying issue is... well, 100kr has no idea where the trail leads.  The map is still crammed somewhere in his coworker's back pocket.  

Unless he manages the dexterity to reach into his own pockets, 100kr will have to break _several_ IP policies to fish out it (most notably, Section 7, Subsection 3... and unlike the grass mouthful, 100kr is embarrassingly certain that would qualify).  Moreover, that seems like a _profuse_ violation of the agent's personal space.  Granted, carrying him halfway up the trail _would_ upset 000 should he find out while in his right mind, but the agent resolved about five minutes into their walk to _hope_ that 000 remembers little of their afternoon.  And apologize profusely regardless.

100kr will just have to trial and error a reasonable path over the pile of rocks, he decides with a sigh and another muttered count to ten, this time in Kalosian.  

000 somehow manages to stand after a dozen or so cheesepuffs, Croagunk growing more impatient and irate with each distribution. The agent teeters on the sides of his sneakers, but manages a zigzag towards the other agent, fidgeting with the hems of his shirt. 100kr sighs again.  He wants to pick the other man up and save him the trouble, but if he can stumble on his feet, the action will also fall against Section 7, Subsection 3.

"Halfway," he reminds himself aloud, balling his fists, "I am _halfway._ "

"My stomach," the other man grumbles, taking 100kr's muttering as an invitation to unrelated conversation.

"Hm-"

Without warning, 000 drops to the ground and vomits neon orange and grass onto his coworker's knees.  The taller agent jumps to attention, impending anxiety attack and additional vomit be damned.   He scoops his coworker off the ground and charges back down the trail, leaving Persian to pick up Croagunk and chase after him. They can't waste time here and rock climbing is out of the question and if 100kr doesn't _do_ something about this new development, he will fall into panic again and, perhaps more important, 000 will  _die._

The side trail has to lead _somewhere_. Otherwise, what is the point of having a trail?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please tell me one of you readers are old enough to remember 'taping'. There was nothing more horrible that finding your parents had taped over your bootleg VHS of My Neighbor Totoro with your brother's first band concert or something equally unnecessary.
> 
> As far as updates go, I can't manage and update for the next few chapters. I'm basically spending 90 hours a week right now trying not to cause certain disaster and honestly, kind of too tired in the intermittent get a ton of writing in. I really only got this squeezed out because there's a federal regulatory body pissed off at my client and the project went to a standstill.
> 
> So yeah, this will be updated either when the feds shut them down again or they finally realize what a huge pit of money this project is.


	7. KoMM-3288:6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 1730

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Content warning: Vomit, berrytripping, fake news, river drinking, 'camping people'

 

The green soon returns, replacing chunks of cheesepuff and grass as the interruption to 100kr's navigation down the haphazard slope of inconvenient granite faces, exposed tree roots, and loose dirt.  At least 000 seems to have recovered enough to stumble his way down the steep path, falling on his hands every few yards but otherwise staying upright.  100kr _would_ carry him (Section 7, Subsection 3 be damned), but he fares little better.  Twice the agent goes skidding down a rather steep decline on his hands and knees.  While 100kr's gut wrenches every time he falls, 000 just has to suffer through this with him lest they both crack their skulls.

Even Persian halts Croagunk's ride after a few minutes, choosing instead to leap away through the forest out of sight and forcing 100kr to return him to his nap.  100kr tries not to be too upset at Persian's disappearance.  She cares for 000 as well, she will return when requisite.

The trail must lead somewhere, he vainly hopes every time he watches 000 retch into the dirt.  The map has stayed fast in 000's back pocket, though at the point the other agent has fallen in so many melted-snow-induced mud puddles it would be questionable if 100kr could even read it.  The trail _seems_ to head perpendicular to the mountain.  As they stumble, 100kr wracks his brain, trying to recall the general route of the main hiking throughway.  He remembers it having an eventual westward curve after passing Mt. Moon, but the agent can't be sure if he's remembering the beginning of the trail or (worse) just being hopeful.

Once the topography flattens, 100kr decides he may very well have to fish out the map.  It's will grow dark soon, and while 000 doesn't seem to be in bad spirits about the vomit, it is only a matter of time before his condition sinks again.  100kr does not want to test whether he's stable enough to survive the night.

Moreover, 100kr has never so much as camped before.  Minus a class on wilderness survival that he scraped by in during training, he's not sure where to begin with overnight primitive camping.  They could build a fire with some leaves and 000's lighter, but shelter would be near impossible to come by and food even more difficult.  100kr can't cook on a stove, let alone on an open fire.

He will have to procure 000's map.  They cannot risk staying overnight.

Despite walking on his own, 000 still manages to be negative help to their navigational quandary.  The agent frequently makes dashes for the bushes at total random, babbling about lights.  100kr entertains his first two breakaways after grabbing him by the shirt, but was unable to see whatever it was his coworker keeps trying to touch nor ascertain what he might have mistaken for physical matter worth touching.

In any case, 000 is disappointed when 100kr makes it clear he will _not_ allow bolting clear off the marginally demarcated trail.

"Zeroes, you may depart from the trail when you have finished vomiting every few feet," 100kr negotiates with him, grabbing him by the around the waist and hauling him back down the path.

"Lights, KR!" 000 protests, trying to worm his way out the other agent's firm grasp, " _Lights_!"

"There are no lights!" he reiterates, trying to keep his footing down a particularly steep slope.

The grabbing proves to be a critical error.  With the increased pressure on his midsection, 000 spits up more green onto 100kr's arms.  It takes all of the agent's remaining willpower to not  drop the man.  He can't decide which is more uncomfortable- the continued dry heaving as 000 squirms or the coating of warm, sticky, and nonviscous seeping into his coat.

"You sewed R295's residual fingers back onto his hand," 100kr reminds himself as he shuffles back down the path with the squirming agent, "This is not so bad in comparison... this is not so bad."

Well, it is worse.  100kr didn't care much for R295 to begin with, but 000 is his best friend.  Moreover, he had recently completed his Field Medical 3 seminar and wanted to show off what he'd learned in front of 000.  Much to his dismay, 000 had started vomiting then too, though less from venoshock and more from the agent's surprisingly weak constitution. The entire point was rendered moot, though R295 kept most of the use of his fingers long and earned a transfer to the Hoenn regional division before he could complain about how 100kr's sewing.  The point remains though that the concerning colored vomit is well within the list of things 100kr _should_ be able to handle.  He purses his lips together and traipses down the haphazard trail another few feet, before his foot catches a root.

He and 000 go tumbling down the incline, head over heels.  He bashes against every rock and branch as he goes, unable to catch himself or the other agent.  Somehow 100kr even manages to tumble faster (negating his theory that he loses races because his coworker is more _aerodynamic_ ), his roll coming to a swift halt against a tree situated at a sudden flat part of the trail.  With an incoherent shout, 000 comes to a stop a few seconds later against 100kr's stomach.

The agent makes no effort to move.  Everything now hurts, instead of just his arms.  Surely he's covered in enough bruises to warrant an additional incident report; as if today didn't already result in enough incident reports.

This is all _quite_ hopeless, he decides as he groans.  The trail perhaps just leads farther into the woods and away from help and people with medicine and 000 will surely perish before nightfall and-

100kr snaps himself out of that particular line of panic when he hears 000 groan.  The other agent may well have broken something in the fall.  Shaking his head, he snaps to attention and tries his best to sit 000 upright.

"Are you hurt?!" he panics, patting down his ribs for breaks (it is just checking for broken bones, he reminds himself, pushing the entirety of Section 7 out of his mind).

000 looks stunned, but cracks a twisted, mile-wide smile.  "Again!"

"No,no, not again!" 100kr grabs his wrists.  000 doesn't retract and nothing feels out of place.

"Yes, again," the agent reiterates, before putting his hand on 100kr's stomach, "You're soft."

100kr's body temperature shoots at least one hundred degrees higher and he can feel the flush pass over his face.  "I am not soft!" he shouts, shoving his coworker's hand off.

Perhaps it is fortunate normal 000 won't touch him.  That would be a.... _difficult_ sensation to handle on a regular basis and 000 in his right mind.  Once was more than enough.  100kr will be happy when 000 returns to his usual, standoffish self... if he ever does.

000 grumbles and puts his hand on 100kr's head instead.  "Yes, soft. And warm."

The agent blushes harder and stands up, lest strange-berry-induced 000 conjure any _worse_ ideas.   "Not soft."

"Yes."

"No," 100kr insists as he dusts himself off.  Nothing broken (despite that everything hurts and he will be black and blue by the evening), though he may very well have lost his mind.  000 doesn't have his and he is somehow entertaining their bickering regardless.  "Come now, we must be leaving."

Lest 000 become any more ill.  He hasn't complained about his stomach since earlier and seems otherwise unaware of the poisoning.  While it's probable that's the influence of the berry, it seems somewhat hopeful that they will at least reach the end of the trail.

000 reaches his arms out, gesturing for a pickup much like Croagunk.

"No Zeroes, you are capable of walking," 100kr says, wincing.  Well, he didn't check if his coworker's legs had broken, but they did not look broken and 000 seems too chipper to have any breaks.

"Up," he protests, stretching higher.

The agent sighs but acquiesces to at least bring his coworker back to his feet.  000 stands with no issue (reducing 100kr's heart rate by half, he really did not consider broken ankles until that moment), if not a little dizzy from the sudden change in elevation.  He dry heaves, but keeps the contents of his stomach to himself before wobbling towards 100kr.  "Water," he says, pointing behind his coworker towards another set of bushes.

The agent can do nothing more than shake his head, "We are out of water, I am sorry."

000 consumed and regurgitated what few water bottles they had packed hours ago.  100kr had started to worry about that point himself, but it became somewhat secondary to bringing his coworker to safety as soon as possible.  With their resounding inability to determine where they even were and impending nightfall, the lack of water bumps higher on the list of concerns.  000 is regularly dehydrated to begin with.  It's a miracle he can still wobble around as he does.

"Water!" 000 shouts this time, before adding, "This way!"

He takes off at top speed past 100kr and off the path.  100kr turns on his heels after him in horror, ever bruise on him screaming in protest.  His coworker darts between trees and through bushes, farther and farther off the marked path.

"Zeroes! Wait!"

"Water!"

Even poisoned and out of his right mind, 000 is faster than him, 100kr realizes with irritation as he goes chasing the other agent.  This should not be the case.  000 never engages in any kind of athleticism over the bare minimum required and has much shorter legs.

"Water!" the smaller agent continues to yell, diving headlong through a thicket.

With a wince, 100kr follows straight after him, the branches scratching his face and the leaves catching in his hair.  Perhaps carrying 000 _is_ the best option.  He misbehaves every second he isn't actively restrained.

It is also, perhaps, a good thing that the two met as adults.  Even normal 000's temperament gives 100kr anxiety.  If 000 truely behaved as such during childhood, 100kr would have been more of a nervous wreck than he already was.  He prided himself on how much calmer he had become as an adult.

Granted, the majority of the calm started after he met 000.

The thicket gives way to the banks of what appears to be a small river.  100kr is so shocked he stops dead, ignoring the branch that snaps back into the side of his head.  While confused and seeing imaginary lights and failing to understand personal boundaries, 000 still keeps a strangely intuitive sense of direction.

For things he wants, in any case, which here means a drink of water.  The deranged agent crouches down before cupping his hands and catching some.

"DO NOT DRINK THAT!" 100kr blurts, snapping out of his shock and awe, "NO!"

000 disregards his words and manages two quick handfuls of river water before 100kr can grab him by the back of his shirt.

Rivers are _notorious_ for carrying all manner of fungi and radioactive waste and flesh-eating amoebas.   At least, this is the case as far as 100kr understands and has researched it via the occasional news article while he waits in line at the grocery store.  While that cannot be _common_ (100kr hopes, since there is no taking back what 000 has already drank), surely rivers present _enough_ of a risk.  Why else would it be featured in the paper?

Well, unlike foraging, the International Police Policies have no official stance on drinking from rivers.  Perhaps, however, this is due to no incidents related to drinking river water.  100kr refuses to allow his coworker create _yet another_ new policy point.

"Water, KR," 000 protests, pointing at the river.  The scowl across his face seems more dejected than angry, as if he had some pride he'd reached the river, "I found water."

100kr's heart sinks.  The other agent _is_ trying to help their predicament, though in his special, one-track-mind way that may or may not relate to the task at hand.  100kr takes a hesitant look at the river and tries to recall wilderness survival class.  A few small poliwags swim about and the taller agent catches a glimpse of what appears to be a goldeen.  They do not appear radioactive at first glance.  Normal looking fish should mean the water is safe for drinking, correct?

He can't remember.  He could try to construct a fire with 000's lighter and sticks and boil it, but they neglected to bring any sort of pot or coffee mug that could withstand boiling.  An empty waterbottle would melt and besides, boiling would do nothing for radioactivity.

In any case, 100kr makes a mental note that if they survive this mission, a small pot should be forever added to the packing list.

000 tries to squirm out of his grip.  River water is preferred to no water.  100kr frees him with a sigh so he may return to drinking from the stream (which, to 100kr's horror, he does with the same eagerness he downs a beer on Friday evenings).  At least the river provides an opportunity for 100kr to wash the vomit off himself.  The agent started to grow concerned of its disease-spreading potential.  Most bodily fluids are prime vectors for viruses and flesh eating amoebas, and there was no telling if they picked up some sort of rapidly-effecting virus on their tumble down the path.  If 100kr grew ill now, 000 _will_ perish from poisoning, perhaps somewhat faster than he already will die and they _should_ be making a more concerted effort now as they are off the main path and it is now sunset and they will become even more lost in the dark and will never find the way to the hotel and 000 will die and this will all be _100kr's fault._

The agent sits down on the bank with a plop, all ability to breathe gone.  His eyes cut out of focus and he digs his nails against the broken cuticle of his thumb.  000 will die if they cannot find help _soon_ .  Right now.  The entire day has passed and they have only come across the child with the berries.  000 chances of survival have reduced down to zero with the coming sunset and this is entirely, absolutely, and positively _100kr's fault_.  He will lose his best friend during the night if he doesn't think up a miracle plan within the another few minutes and yet he can't even make himself breathe or keep his surroundings from spinning or focus or-

"Soft."

A wet hands runs through his hair and agent returns back to reality with a deep gasp, his heart racing.

"Soft," 000 repeats, playing with the other agent’s hair as he sits and counts to ten a few times over (in different languages, for good measure in the event there is one more effective than Kalosian).

As _uncomfortable_ as the gesture is, it's calming enough to bring 100kr back to what matters (even if his heart threatens to leap from his chest).  They _will_ find the path again and keep walking.  The park brochure only featured day hikes.  This path must lead somewhere.  100kr has a flashlight and a gun and Croagunk, they can continue to walk in the night.  He will not set camp and 000 will _not_ die.

100kr won't allow such.

"Yes, soft.  Have you had enough to drink?  We must be leaving now," he informs 000, dodging the hand in his hair.  That is quite enough of that.  Hands in hair are implied as improper in the International Police Policies, even if the points do not spell them out (much like river drinking).

Moreover, sane 000 will be unhappy if he hears about this behavior.

"Water?" 000 offers, pointing at the river.

"I shall not be consuming anything from the river, no," 100kr says as the thicket begins to rustle.

His heart, which had almost returned to just above normal rate, leaps into his throat and out of instinct he releases Croagunk.  The pokemon rubs his eyes as he appears before glancing back at the two agents in confusion and discontent at another wakeup.  100kr pushes his coworker behind him, in case whatever enemy goes straight for their weakest team member, though he immediately reconsiders.  Croagunk is a strong fighter but they are deep in the woods and 100kr... well, 100kr is not a good trainer.  000 did the training, he watched and mimicked as best he could.

Perhaps, and with any hopes, some bit of 000 abilities with pokemon are instinctual.  Perhaps he is still a good trainer even when berries make him silly because the something on the other side of the thicket sounds exceptionally large and powerful and capable of killing them all right here and-

Persian emerges from the thicket, holding a large and shimmering mass in her mouth and looking rather unamused with the crowd staring at her.  Disregarding Croagunk and 100kr, she pushes past to 000, who squeals in delight.  She drops what, to 100kr's horror, appears to be the remains of a headless magikarp at his feet.

"Good girl," 000 tells her, scratching her behind the ears, "Dinner!"

"NO! Not good!"  100kr interjects, snatching the Magikarp corpse off the groups by what remains of its tail, "This will not be dinner!"

000 grabs the headless end, "No!"

"We are not consuming this!" The agents aren't starving enough yet to eat something Persian hunted and dragged through the bush from Arceus only knows where.  He certainly isn't about to watch 000 vomit it back up.  As he doesn't hold down water, a poorly cleaned and cooked _wild animal_ will no doubt wreak havoc on him.  "No!"

"Yes!" 000 protests, tugging back with a shocking amount of strength.

"No!" 100kr manages to pull it from his grip and dodge Persian's detracted claws as she slashes at him over the matter.

"NO!" 000 yells at her, crossing his arms, "No claws!"

The other agent's dedication to keeping him safe from his pokemon makes 100kr smile despite the Magikarp guts dripping onto his shoes.  In most cases, 000 allows Persian to stand her ground against the other IP agents.  He's even let her slash at him in the past, when she evolved on a mission and 100kr couldn't stop giggling at the shape of her face.  In his defense, most Persians just did _not_ look that way and he found the sudden change from normal-but-offcolor meowth to silly round purple Persian _hilarious_.  The point remains however, 000 won't allow her to attack now.

His heart drops again when he realizes they came to this predicament in the first place because he did not offer his coworker the same courtesy.  Croagunk used venoshock on 000.  Even when silly and delirious and _ill_ , the agent is a better trainer and a better _person_ than 100kr.  Had 000 called all the battle decisions, they would be at the hotel right now, watching movies on the IP's pay-per-view account and listening to the comm radio.

Persian alternates glares at 100kr and 000, but retracts her claws.

"No claws," 000 reminds her again before adding with a pang of sadness, "No fish."

"...Thank you, Zeroes."  Before any more questions can be raised about the possibilities of consuming a freshly slain pokemon, 100kr tosses the corpse in the woods. "We will find... some other food."

"No fish," the other agent sighs again, crouching down for another drink of river water.  Before he can, he stumbles backward onto his rear gripping his stomach.  A mouthful of water and green lands in the river.

_And perhaps no more river drinking..._ 100kr thinks.

As 000 wipes his mouth with the hem of his tshirt, 100kr pats him on the back in attempted reassurance.  "It will be okay, Zero-zero-zero.  We will be okay."

The words are more to himself than his coworker.  They _must_ be okay.  100kr will not let 000 die here.

"Okay," 000 responds, smiling back at 100kr.

100kr's stomach ties into knots.  Perhaps their predicament would be a much easier experience if 000 had more of his usual personality.  Usual 000 is a very skeptical and very untrusting agent.  Even friendship with 100kr doesn't stop him from shooting down the other agent's (generally bad) ideas.  Knowing that, with his current state, 100kr has the man's full confidence, just piles on undue and additional stress that he tries his best to push from his mind.  He will not let 000 die like this, in the middle of nowhere, away from his homeland, without an capacity to understand _who_ killed him and _why_.  It is, at the least, unfair to everything 000 otherwise stands for.

"LIGHTS!" 000 shouts out of nowhere, jumping up as if he did not vomit a mouthful of bile a few seconds before.

The interjection snaps 100kr out of his time-wasting self-loathing, "Zeroes, no-"

His words come too late.  The smaller agent is halfway down the bank by the time 100kr finish shouting his name, in high pursuit of some unknown light source.  100kr reballs Croagunk and takes off after him. "ZEROES!  Stop this at once!"

"Lights!" 000 repeats, ignoring his orders, "Lights!"

The rocky bank does little to hinder 000's run, unlike the tree roots while he walked.  He somehow moves gracefully over or around all obstacles in his path, as if an intrinsic ability to run like a madman has overtaken him.  100kr, meanwhile, neglects to notice a ground vine and falls face-first into a puddle.

"Whoa fella!" an unfamiliar voice calls out from up ahead, "Gotcha!"

"LIGHTS!" 000 shrieks in protest.

100kr's heart jumps.  People.  That is the sound of another person.  The agents are _not_ alone.

100kr can procure _help_.

He jumps to attention, ignoring the mud dripping down his face.  Up ahead, a rather stout teenager in overalls has a squirming 000 around the waist.  The agent tries to free himself in desperation, but the kid miraculously keeps ahold of him.

"Lights!" 000 dissents, kicking his legs, "Lights!"

"Calm down buddy, there ain't no lights here," the teen responds with an eerie calm as he walks towards 100kr, "He yours?"

"Yes!  Thanking very muchly of you!" 100kr exclaims.

"He all right now?" he asks as he gestures to pass off 000 to the other agent, "He seems a little off.  In any case, been fishing here a couple hours and ain't seen no lights."

100kr accepts the awkward transfer, wrapping his arm around 000.  Much to his immediate discomfort, 000 ceases his squirming and instead wraps his arms and legs around the other agent like an overgrown toddler.  100kr tries his hardest to maintain a normal demeanor despite his friend's sudden desire to cling to him and be held like Croagunk.

At least he is easier to hold this way.

"Ah yes, he is perhaps a bit... out of his usual mind at the moment."

The teen's acne-covered face cracks into a genuine smile that nonetheless sends the hairs on the back of 100kr's neck standing.  "Really now? A bit touched?"

"Erm, well, yes," the agent tries to backpedal, no longer sure if he should requisition any help from the boy.  "Perhaps you could direct us in the proper direction towards civilization, as the hour is growing quite late and we need to be of finding some assistance before it grows any later."

"My family's camp's just up ahead.  I'll take you to 'em!" the teen replies with eagerness, "Lucky I found y'all!"

"Oh, no!  No need for us to be intruding on your family's vacation!  We simply are requiring some direction-"

"Ah, it's no 'intrusion'!  They'd love to meet y'all!"  Ignoring 100kr's protests, the boy picks up the tackle box and pole that had been discarded in order to catch 000, "C'mon, you'll be just in time for dinner!"

Well, perhaps food is in order.  100kr's stomach starts to rumble at the suggestion and 000 hasn't had more than a handful of cheesepuffs at most.  With a nervous gulp, 100kr follows the teen up the bank.

"It's just up this way!" he says, "Like I said, they're more than happy to meet y'all.  It's not often we meet his types, even in these days."

100kr isn't sure he likes the phrasing of that sentence.  He's not sure what 000's _type_ is presumed to be.  He is Alolan, which is unusual in this area, and he is an agent of the International Police, which is also unusual.  At first glance, an ordinary civilian teenager should _not_ be able to ascertain either of these points.  Perhaps his 'type' is in reference to his red eyes.  100kr finds those fascinating as well, so much so that the color distracted him enough to forget his nerves and speak to 000 in the first place.

"Erm... perhaps no," the agent responds, trying to avoid trail obstacles as best he can with 000 in his arms.  At least the other agent doesn't squirm about, clearly happier to be carried on 100kr's hip than over his shoulder.

"How long has he been like this?  Do you know?" the teen asks with disconcerting interest.

"Erm, perhaps five hours or so now?   Since approximately lunchtime.  Erm, I do hate to burden you with requests as a person I have never met before, but aside from his lost mind, in addition he is also particularly physically ill.  If you are keeping any sort of proper medication at your camp, we would be happy to reimburse you for-"

"Ah, I can see what all my folks got.  I'm sure the least we can do is set one of his type up right," the boy picks up the pace as the path opens up to a makeshift campground of sorts.  Based on the full clotheslines extending off the campervan, the folding chairs set up in circles around a fire, picnic table laden with various loose cookware, and the empty propane bottles strewn about, the teen's family has been established at the site for quite some time.  100kr hesitates before following the teen closer to the makeshift homestead, hoping that this is a sign of their wilderness survival prowess rather than a deviation from normal society.  He _has_ to hope.  They are the second people and the first able-bodied adults the agents have stumbled across.  For 000's sake, 100kr has to take his chance with hoping.

"Camping people," 000 snorts, before resting his head on 100kr's shoulder.

"Sh... perhaps they will be of some aid," 100kr corrects him, though surprised at his judgement.  That is the most 'normal 000' comment the other agent has made under the influence of the berry.  Perhaps he _is_ recovering with time.

He grumbles in response, repeating himself.  "Camping people."

"Ma! Pa!" the teen shouts as he approaches the camper, "C'mere!  I met company!  And I reckon one of them has been touched by Mew's second coming!"

100kr's breath catches in his throat.  That is not the case.  That is very much not the case.  He tries to interject then and there, to clear the matter, but the only words his mouth form are a meek "Oh dear...".

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Darkpokemon worldbuilding relocated to chapter 7 because the author decided instead to write about Nanu drinking riverwater (literally that is what happened).
> 
> Stay tuned for the story to finally pick up.


End file.
